Darwin’s own comments on observation are frequent and most interesting. Little inclined as he was to self-praise, in the charming autobiographical sketch which begins the ‘Life,’ he frankly states his merits in this regard: ‘I think that I am superior to the common run of men in noticing things which easily escape attention, and in observing them carefully. My industry has been nearly as great as it could have been in the observation and collection of facts.’[10] Exact, systematic, patient study of what is actually seen seems to him the basis of all great scientific work, and he repeatedly emphasizes the importance of it. ‘It is well to remember that Naturalists value observations far more than reasoning.’[11] Again, ‘I have come not to care at all for general beliefs without the special facts. I have suffered too often from this.’[12] And observation is not only a duty, it is a delight. The arrangement of facts, the deduction of theories from them, thought, reasoning, argument, these are labor and pain. But to watch the insects and the flowers, by long and careful attention to make them yield all their secrets, this is no labor, but an exquisite diversion, which never fails: ‘A naturalist’s life would be a happy one if he had only to observe, and never to write.’[13] It is evident, further, that Darwin’s observation was by no means confined to natural science, but was quick, acute, and constant in all the different phases and interests of life. Naturally his books deal with little besides his scientific work, but the record of the Beagle shows interest and appreciation of many things outside of this work altogether. An eye so carefully trained could not fail to distinguish and perceive all sorts of minute points that others would pass over. His readiness to note other things besides those he was looking for shows in the piquant comment on wide experimenting: ‘It may turn out a mare’s nest, but I have often incidentally observed curious facts when making what I call “a fool’s experiment.”’[14] It is especially curious to note Darwin’s observation of himself. To be sure, he disclaims any philosophical study in this regard: ‘I have never tried looking into my own mind.’[15] Nevertheless, whether he tried or not, he was curiously alive to what went on there, and he records what he finds with the singular candor which appears in his treatment of his own affairs as well as of others. The very hesitation with which he speaks of self-analysis increases the value of his results: ‘If I can analyze my own feelings (a very doubtful process).’[16] And when he does make a statement, it is all the more reliable and all the more far-reaching from the moderation and reserve with which it is advanced.