Edward took the inhabitants by surprise. They had never been able to understand him. His wanderings by night had been matter of great wonderment to them. The exhibition fully explained the reason of his frequent disappearances. When his public announcement was advertised, some of the better classes called at his house in Wright’s Close, to ascertain if it was true. True, indeed! He pointed to the cases of stuffed birds and animals which nearly filled his house. Then the question came—“What made you a Naturalist?”
“When I was first asked this question,” says he, “I was completely dumfoundered! I had no notion that a Naturalist could be _made_. What! make a Naturalist as you would make a tradesman! I could not believe that people became Naturalists for pecuniary motives. My answer to those who put the question invariably was, and still is, _I cannot tell_. I never knew of any external circumstance that had anything to do with engendering, in my mind, the never-ceasing love which I entertained for the universal works of the Almighty; so that the real cause must be looked for elsewhere.”
In preparing for the exhibition of his Collection, Edward brushed up his specimens, and cleaned his cases, before removing them to the Trades’ Hall. But in looking over his Collection, he found that he had sustained another serious loss. He regarded it at the time as a heartrending catastrophe. Some time before, he had put nearly 2000 dried and preserved plants into a box, which he had placed at the top of the stair, in order to be out of harm’s way. The plants were all dried and preserved. They were the result of eight years’ labour employed in collecting them. But when he went to overhaul the box, he found that the lid had been shoved to one side, and that numerous cats had entered it and made it their lair. The plants were completely soaked, and rendered utterly worthless. The box smelt so abominably, that he was under the necessity of making a bonfire of it in the back-yard.
All this was exceedingly disheartening. Nevertheless he removed his remaining collection to the place appointed for exhibiting it. He had no allurements,—no music,—no drums nor trumpets, as the other show-people had. His exhibition was held in an upper room, so that the sight-seers had to mount a long stair before they could see the Collection. Nevertheless, many persons went to see it; and the result was, that Edward not only paid his expenses, but had something laid by for future purposes.