28 
He was methodical without being systematic. His very life in later 
years was a life of routine only broken here and there by Sabbath 
visits to “* Woodside,” the childhood home of his adopted daughter. Nor 
was he idle during these visits, for upon his return Monday morning he 
always brought back a considerable amount of fresh entomological ma- 
terial, the result of his field rambles and excursions, frequently an- 
nouncing a new fact or discovery, or displaying some unknown larve 
to rear, and always exhibiting something interesting. 
His enthusiasm was the maipspring of his endeavor, his untiring in- 
dustry, coupled with method, the means of accomplishing the under- 
takings which it prompted. He cared little for the good opinion of the 
world as far as relativg to himself personally, but he not only found 
pleasure in, but invited appreciation of, his utilitarian schemes. It was 
a great satisfaction to him to feel that he possessed the friendship and 
esteem of the leading scientific men of his age, but he never courted 
their favor, and his modesty led him to shrink from posing as a con- 
spicuous figure among them. 
Had he lived to complete his work in his own way and found means 
to publish it in its entirety the world would have had a better appre- 
ciation of the immensity and scope of the undertaking than any sim- 
ple statements of friend or biographer will ever convey. 
I will close this brief sketch with a tribute to Mr. Glover from the 
pen of an intimate friend, written in 1874, which appeared in Field and 
Forest four years after. The last two stanzas proved prophetic. 
THE PROFESSOR. 
[Inscribed to Professor G———.] 
Little cares he for the world, but sits 
Till evening, from earliest dawn, 
And figures and etches and writes, 
And the work goes bravely on. 
And a monument grows, day by day, 
That shall tell to the world his fame 
When marble has crumbled away— 
And he silentiy carves his name. 
Carves it in Nature’s soft lines, 
With a graver skilled and true ; 
And the acid eats till the eye defines 
The ontline of promise in view. 
And the days and years go fleeting by, 
Tasks are finished and new ones set ; 
Still the end is not, nor draweth nigh— 
There are pages unwritten yet. 
Pages unwritten that ever will be, 
For the longest life isa span— 
That his dream may approach reality, 
He is working while he can. 
