310 MEMOIR OF GEORGE WILSON. CHAP. X. 



cause, in \kzfirst place, we are not bees ; 2^, By having no 

 shining hours, the sun obstinately hiding himself behind 

 clouds ; 3<//y, There is no honey to be gathered, because, 

 Ajhly, there are no flowers. At least, however, we resemble 

 the bees in being busy, although I cannot take it upon me 

 to say that we are so ' all the day,' as untruthful Dr. Watts 

 declares the bees to be, in the face of the fact that they are 

 notorious for fighting, stabbing, and singing songs, besides 

 eating, . drinking, and sleeping. At all events, between us 

 we despatched fourteen letters yesterday, and here is a pile 

 beside me to-day waiting for replies. 



" This is the first of May, with promise of the sun ; the 

 snow is melted on the Perthshire hills, and the lambs are 

 reposing on the grass as if they were immortals. . . . 



" Don't think me selfish if I stay here to the last. This 

 rest of soul and body is to me welcome beyond description. 

 I hope to fall to work again stoutly on my return." 



In July, Government business called him to England. 

 " I hope by the visit," he writes, " to do soul, body, and my 

 dear Museum good." A month later he spent a few days in 

 Manchester viewing the treasures of the Exhibition held 

 there in that year, and then passed on to Dublin to study 

 the arrangements of its Industrial Museum, and also attend 

 the meetings of the British Association. Three bright and 

 happy days were spent in the Manchester Crystal Palace. 

 He was accompanied by his sister and a friend, and while 

 each roamed about at will, according to individual taste, it 

 was their custom to meet at a certain hour at which a daily 

 concert was given. A note written on one of these occasions 

 expresses his delight : 



