ntaining that the actual
enjoyment of the Natural Beauty of the Earth should be regarded as
within the scope of geographical science, though this Society as a
social body might well participate in such enjoyment. Enjoyment is
feeling, whereas science is knowing; and feeling and knowing are
distinct faculties. We can easily see the distinction. We may be
travelling to Plymouth to embark for South Africa on some
absorbing enterprise, and be so engrossed with thoughts of the
adventure before us as to be unable to enjoy the famed West
Country through which the train is passing, though all the time we
were quite aware in our minds of its beauty. We are not actually
enjoying the beauty, though we know quite well that it is there. On
another occasion we may be returning after long absence in
countries of far different character; our minds may be free from any
disturbing thoughts; and we may be in a mood to enjoy to the full
every beauty we see. England will then seem to us a veritable garden,
the greenness of everything, the trimness of the hedges, the sheets of
purple hyacinths, and some still remaining primroses, will startle us
with joy, though we have long been aware of their beauty. This time
we both know and enjoy the Natural Beauty. We see from this
instance the distinction between knowing Natural Beauty and
enjoying it. I am not claiming more than that _knowing_ Natural
Beauty--being aware of it--is part of Geography. But I _am_
claiming liberty to extend our knowing up to the extreme limit when
it merges into feeling.

What we have now to consider is the value of this Natural Beauty. A
region may be flat or mountainous, dry or wet, barren or fertile,
useful or useless for either political or commercial purposes. But it
is not its flatness or ruggedness, or its utility or inutility for
political or commercial purposes, that we may find in the end is the most
noteworthy characteristic, but its beauty--its own particular beauty.
The conventional gold or oil prospector, or railway engineer, or
seeker for sites for rubber or coffee plantation, or pasture-lands for
sheep and cattle, may not bother his head about the beauty of the
forests, the rivers, the prairies, and the mountains he is exploring. He
is much too absorbed in the practical business of life to be distracted
by anything so fanciful--as he thinks. Yet even he does see the
beauty, and long afterwards he finds it is that which has stuck most
firmly in his mind.