Turn now to another aspect of the zoologist's work--that of teaching. We should think it very wrong to turn men loose on the world to practise in the professions of law or medicine without a long and careful training to fit them for their task. No less impossible is it for anyone to become a man of science without a similar training; for the profession of the man of science, whether zoologist, chemist, botanist, or expert in whatever branch, if defined in plain English, is the profession of seeking after knowledge of the order of things in which we live; and what profession can be more important to the world than this? To attain a scientific degree of any value, years of study are therefore required, and a series of examinations tests--or is supposed to test--the success of the student. Both the work of teaching and the work of examining must be the tasks of the scientist who has attained a position of eminence in the world of learning. The preparation of lectures, with their accompanying illustrations of diagrams and lantern slides: the guiding of classes engaged in the actual work of making acquaintance with animal specimens--these are the labours of the great man who is at the head of things. His task is carried out with the aid of junior helpers of his own profession--the demonstrators, who "point out" detail after detail of the work described in the lectures. Another helper, more esteemed by the students than by the professor who teaches them, is the "coach" who prepares them directly for their examinations. His aid, in the shape of extra teaching, given at the last moment, will often secure for the careless and inattentive pupil, better success than is the lot of the painstaking and industrious one, who cannot afford to pay extra fees. Few, however, of all the many pupils who crowd the lecture room of the zoologist, will ever become zoologists themselves. A vast proportion of them are students of medicine, of whom some knowledge of the subject is required. Others are preparing to be schoolmasters or schoolmistresses, and seek just such an amount of knowledge as they expect to find useful in teaching pupils of their own. To the students who are preparing to be doctors or teachers, circumstances often assign a limit--"thus far and no farther"--when they would fain bring their knowledge to a higher standard. But the time they have spent already has not been wasted. How keen an observer of animal life is the country doctor! How often, isolated from the world of learning, and ill-provided with books, he finds in this his chief recreation! As for the schoolmaster, how is the routine of school-work relaxed, and labour changed into pleasure, when he lets his boys exchange grammar and Euclid for zoology, and the lessons of the schoolroom for lessons in the fields!