Seth Mosley and Natural History

Jim (I never knew his second name) was the Warden of Moor House Field Station during my time there [1] and his duties were to look after the buildings of the Station and to assist in the running of the place. He also supported the research on grouse that was being conducted by a team of researchers using a wonderful black Labrador called Heather, that I loved. When I chatted to Jim, it was clear that he had first-hand, and expert, knowledge of dippers (Cinclus cinclus), but the only people to know about this were those that engaged him in conversation - there were no written records (of which I was aware). It led me to think about the wealth of information held by amateur natural historians and how this knowledge could be made available for a wider audience in the 2020s [2].

I don’t know what sparked Jim’s interest in natural history, but he was proud of being from the area of the Pennines around Moor House and I would imagine that his observations on dippers, and much other wildlife, stemmed from his early years. Perhaps from a parent, or a teacher, or from something that he read, or saw in museums? Fortunately, we know about the background, and interests, of one “working-class naturalist” – Seth Lister Mosley – from an excellent biography by Alan Brooke, a historian and activist from the same part of Yorkshire as Seth [3]. Unlike Jim, Seth influenced a wide audience although, until the publication of Alan Brooke’s book, his work was not well known to contemporary natural historians.

Nature’s Missionary [4] (see above) describes how Seth first became interested in natural history and how his interest developed into museum curation, a newspaper column, ideas on education, and in showing how humans need to be at one with the rest of the natural world. At first, he supported himself and his young family by working as a painter and decorator, but then natural history took over, as he branched out into collecting, illustrating, curating and writing. Seth acknowledged that his interest in plants and animals was nurtured by his father, James Mosley, who was a convicted poacher and an expert with guns, shooting birds that were subsequently stuffed and placed in cases [4]. He was an independent spirit and a secularist, while Seth’s mother was also a secularist, with a good knowledge of plants.

James made a living as a taxidermist at a time when many people, of all social classes, delighted in having display cases of birds – and also of butterflies and moths. It is not known whether he used Charles Waterton’s method of preserving bird skins [5], but mention of arsenic as a curing agent in Nature’s Missionary, together with the use of the term “stuffing”, suggests a more traditional approach. Although the various museums that Seth curated contained many cabinets of birds and insects, he was also keen to rear insects and became expert in identifying various pest species. In time, Seth turned away from the practice of preparing cases of exhibits and was a strong advocate of studying wildlife in its natural habitat, making drawings and notes of what he saw, and that practice formed the basis of a regular newspaper column that made Seth well known, both locally and to a wider readership. “He was always pleased when he was acknowledged by strangers or interest was expressed in his column”. [4]

Seth organised rambles for groups to various places around Huddersfield and he also enjoyed solitary walks. Alan Brooke [4] quotes Seth on the importance to him of this activity: 

I never walk into the country on a bright, sunny day, especially when I am alone and therefore have the opportunity to think as I walk along, but I become filled with happiness that I am anxious to get back to put my thought down on paper..

It’s a feeling that many of us have in walking alone in the countryside and, in this, there is a parallel between Seth and Rousseau [6], although there is no knowing whether Seth was familiar with Rousseau’s writings about walking in Nature or about education, another passion that occupied Seth. He believed that we are all part of Nature and that we must recognise this – a sentiment that is even more important today than it was then, when increasing industrialisation was beginning to have such an adverse effect on the environment. His ideas on conservation mirror those of Charles Waterton of the Walton Hall estate near Wakefield, a short distance from Huddersfield [7]. As Seth said in a quote in Alan Brooke’s book [4]: 

The secret of a happy life is to find out what there is in Nature and make ourselves partners in the concern.

His deep knowledge of the natural world was also important in Seth’s religious development, as he left the secular views of his younger days and became a Methodist, believing that all that he saw reflected God. He was not a literal creationist, but a firm supporter of evolutionary theory and he disliked “the narrow interpretation which the materialistic scientists on the one hand, and narrow minded religionists on the other put upon the Bible account, each refusing to see the question from the other’s point of view.” [4] Quite what he felt about Henry Gosse and his strict adherence to the account in Genesis [8] can be imagined, although he would surely have admired Gosse as a natural historian.

Seth’s religious and mystical views are difficult to pin down but, in addition to conducting Christian Nature Study Mission rambles, he preached in local churches whenever asked and he also brought religious thinking into his newspaper column (he was warned not to bring his missionary work into his job as a museum curator). It is difficult for those with strong religious views to stop themselves from proselytising, but it is easy to forgive this trait in Seth, just as one can with Henry Gosse. Even if the two natural historians would disagree on fundamentals, there is no doubting the importance of religious views to each and their shared wonder of the natural world that shone through in all that they did. 

I’ve no idea what Jim’s religious views were, but that is not important to me as he loved Nature, just like Seth and Henry. We need heroes like these.

[1] https://rwotton.blogspot.com/2018/04/tempus-fugit.html 

[2] https://rwotton.blogspot.com/2021/11/outsiders-and-world-of-scientific.html

[3] https://undergroundhistories.wordpress.com/

[4] Alan Brooke (2022) Nature’s Missionary. Huddersfield, Huddersfield Local History Society

[5] https://rwotton.blogspot.com/2013/12/charles-waterton-taxidermy-and.html

[6] Jean-Jacques Rousseau (2011 [in translation by Russell Goulbourne]) Reveries of the Solitary Walker. Oxford, Oxford University Press

[7] Brian Edginton (1996) Charles Waterton: A Biography. Cambridge, The Lutterworth Press.

[8] Roger S Wotton (2020) Walking with Gosse: Natural History and Religious Conflicts. e-book.

 

I would like to thank Alan Brooke for making me aware of Seth Mosley and the excellent book that tells the in-depth story of a remarkable man.

 

 

Solitary walks in Nature

Walking at a good pace is regarded as an excellent way of keeping fit, both physically and mentally. Some prefer to use treadmills in a gymnasium, others to be part of a social exercising group, and yet others prefer to take solitary walks in Nature. My enjoyment of walking started when I was growing up in Devonshire and went with my family into the countryside (I’m the little chap, aged 3, leading in the picture below). I preferred my own company on walks in my teenage years, but also hiked with friends on many occasions and enjoyed our conversations. I had no idea of the physical and mental benefits; I just enjoyed walking through lanes, over Dartmoor, or at the coast - including jumping from rock to rock around headlands, something that carried the risk of falling, or of being cut off from the tide. Other walks held little danger, although barking sheepdogs, and dogs other breeds, running from farms, or other properties, could be off-putting. Aside from that, it was all about the enjoyment of striding out, looking at Nature, feeling the warmth (or cold) and generally becoming lost in the experience. It’s still the way I feel when taking country walks, and I still prefer to go alone. 

Although I’ve rarely sought explanations for the enjoyment of solitary walks, others have. For example, Rousseau writes of his introspection:

The habit of searching into myself caused me, at length, to lose the feeling, and almost the remembrance, of my misfortunes. I thus learnt, by my own experience, that the source of true happiness is within us, and that it does not depend on man to render truly miserable him who knows how to determine to be happy. These four or five years I have constantly tasted those internal delights which kind and gentle souls find in contemplation. Such raptures, such exstasies, I sometimes experienced in thus walking alone, were enjoyments I owed my persecutors; without them I should never have felt or known the treasures I carried within me. [1]

My pleasure is not driven by persecutors and comes from a combination of the exercise and what I see, hear and smell. Even the same route has something different to offer through the seasons. I once asked a low handicap golfer if he ever became bored playing the same links course every day and he replied that it was never the same 18 holes. There were differences in the direction of the wind and its strength; together with differences in dampness, both of the air and of the ground, and all these factors needed to be taken into account when making decisions about the choice of club, or of shot. The golf course was always changing in subtle ways and country walks are never really repeats, for similar reasons to those put forward by the golfer.

What is the scientific evidence for the benefits of country walks? Recently, I read an interesting article in New Yorker by Ferris Jabr, entitled “Why Walking Helps Us Think”. [2] He writes:

What is it about walking, in particular, that makes it so amenable to thinking and writing? The answer begins with changes to our chemistry. When we go for a walk, the heart pumps faster, circulating more blood and oxygen not just to the muscles but to all the organs - including the brain. Many experiments have shown that after or during exercise, even very mild exertion, people perform better on tests of memory and attention.. ..Because we don’t have to devote much conscious effort to the act of walking, our attention is free to wander - to overlay the world before us with a parade of images from the mind’s theatre. This is precisely the kind of mental state that studies have linked with innovative ideas and strokes of insight.

Ferris then goes on to mention the research of Marily Oppezzo and Daniel Schwartz of Stanford University on the link between walking and creativity and also a study by Marc Berman and colleagues at the University of Michigan on the importance of walking in Nature. That stimulated me to read their original research papers.

Oppezzo and Schwartz [3] used separate experiments to allow them to compare sitting, walking on a treadmill, and walking outside, with subjects being assessed using psychological tests. In a thorough discussion of all the possible explanations for their results, they found that:

Walking substantially enhanced creativity.. ..[and] is an easy-to-implement strategy to increase appropriate novel idea generation. When there is a premium on generating new ideas in the workday, it should be beneficial to incorporate walks..

..Walking outdoors on a busy campus did not significantly increase appropriate novelty compared with walking indoors, although the more varied stimulation did appear to increase novelty. This suggests that walking may be effective in many locations that do not have acute distractions. The social context also needs investigation. Participants were encouraged to talk aloud to a friendly researcher. Will the effects generalize to solitary walks?

A good question. It was the effect of walking outdoors that was investigated by Berman et al.. [4] They used two experiments, in the first of which subjects were compared after walking in the city of Ann Arbor and after walking in the relative tranquillity of Ann Arbor Arboretum. There was an improvement in directed-attention ability in the subjects that had walked in the arboretum. Interestingly, a second experiment that showed subjects pictures of nature compared to urban areas in a quiet room produced similar results on cognitive functioning.

Walking in a natural environment is thus shown to be positive, supporting a commonly-held view, and certainly one which I now realise conditioned my love of country walks. It is interesting that Oppezzo and Schwartz allude to solitary walking as this is certainly my preference as it is/was for others. Ferris Jabr comments that Wordsworth:

..walked as many as a hundred and eighty thousand miles in his lifetime, which comes to an average of six and a half miles a day starting from age five. [2]

Such prodigious amounts of walking through the countryside (perhaps there is a little exaggeration here?), led to creativity, but also to deeper thoughts. As Wordsworth wrote [5]:

..this prayer I make,

Knowing that Nature never did betray

The heart that loved her; ‘tis her privilege,

Through all the years of this our life, to lead

From joy to joy: for she can so inform

The mind that is within us, so impress

With quietness and beauty, and so feed

With lofty thoughts, that neither evil tongues,

Rash judgements, nor the sneers of selfish men,

Nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all

The dreary intercourse of daily life,

Shall e’er prevail against us, or disturb

Our cheerful faith that all which we behold

Is full of blessings..

I suppose that is what solitary walks in the countryside are really all about - an immediate pleasure from exercise in such surroundings, the enhancement of creativity, and adding to a store of deep thoughts. They also bring respect for plants, animals and landscape that reminds us that we, too, are part of the natural World. So much of our time is spent in such an unnatural one and walking in the countryside takes us back to the environment in which we evolved, and which we are trying to destroy in many ways. Is that too fanciful an idea? Perhaps I should attempt to answer that question after taking a few long walks and then report back in a future blog post?

In conclusion, I’ll give another quote from Berman et al. [4]:

Imagine a therapy that had no known side effects, was readily available, and could improve your cognitive functioning at zero cost. Such a therapy has been known to philosophers, writers and laypeople alike: interacting with nature.

[1] Jean-Jacques Rousseau (1783) The Reveries of the Solitary Walker (translated from the French). London, J.Bew.

[2] Ferris Jabr (2014) Why Walking Helps Us Think. http://www.newyorker.com/tech/elements/walking-helps-us-think

[3] Marily Oppezzo and Daniel L. Schwartz (2014) Give Your Ideas Some Legs: The Positive Effect of Walking on Creative Thinking. Journal of Experimental Psychology 40: 1142-1152.

[4] Marc G. Berman, John Jonides, and Stephen Kaplan (2008) The Cognitive Benefits of Interacting With Nature. Psychological Science 19: 1207-1212.

[5] William Wordsworth (1798) Lines written a few miles above Tintern Abbey. Lyrical Ballads. London, J. & A. Arch.

I would like to thank Jo Atherton, the well-known potter and flotsam weaver (http://flotsamweaving.com/), for alerting me to Ferris Jabr’s article in a reference on her Facebook page.