3 19 
mighty river. Beginning in the remote past from small and 
_ and scarcely perceptible sources, it was augmented by here a 
_ streamlet, there adewdrop, gathering strength and volume as it 
_ progressed in its course, and ever fed by fresh contributions. 
Sometimes flushed by a sudden and unforeseen influx, it has rushed 
madly on, perchance broken its bounds, overflowed its banks and 
devastated instead of fertilismg its surroundings; at others fed 
gradually by constant supplies, it has flowed steadily and rapidly 
onwards, sweeping all opposition before it. Perhaps hindered by 
rocks or obstacles, its progress may have been delayed, yet still 
it has steadily advanced, impediments have been undermined, 
worn away, swept away. Then again the course has been less 
rapid, the stream has broadened and crept calmly on, making, per- 
haps, little perceptible progress, yet still slowly advancing and 
fertilising the banks on either side. Again there may be rapids, 
cataracts, dazzling by their power and brillianey. but always pro- 
gress, ever onward to the far ocean of Infinity—that Infinity which 
we, with our poor finite brains, can never hope to realise. We 
have now, after a series of brilliant and dazzling inventions, such 
as the Telephone, the Microphone, Phonograph, &c., which almost 
took away our breath by their rapid succession, arrived at one of 
those periods, such as I spoke of, when the river of science has 
_ spread out into a broad and placid stream, wider, far wider than 
ever, for it embraces an almost infinite variety in its bed, but its 
progress is, just now, slow and restful, and multitudinous as are 
the streamlets of experiment and observation which are pouring 
into it, there has of late been no wonderful or startling discovery. 
Perhaps we may be on the eve of some brilliant discovery which 
may sweep away half our present theories, and dazzle and be- 
wilder us in the iridescent spray of novelty and wonder. Who can 
say? At present the oracle is silent. Hven electric lighting, which 
awhile ago promised to revolutionise the present age, and literally 
to turn night into day, has made little apparent progress, and after 
an expenditure of between five and six millions sterling, spent on 
experiments, in little over two and half years, the present price of 
electric stock is something like one shilling in the pound. There 
, nevertheless, patient toilers, working away silently and 
laboriously to solve the practical difficulties which alone prevent 
its universal adoption. Then again the phonograph, by which we 
oped to preserve, record and reproduce the sounds and intonations 
imprinted on its revolving eyendom has, as yet, proved scarcely 
ore than a scientific toy, though it is true Dr. Zinteraft, of Bonn, 
has taken one with him to Central Africa to record the str ge 
guttural sounds of the native dialects. Perhaps what may pféve 
e greatest and most beneficial scientific work of the present age, 
