A HISTORY OF SCIENCE 



scholar, with tall, rather angular frame and most kind- 

 ly gleam of eye, is Sir Michael Foster ; and there beyond 

 is the large - seeming though not tall figure, and the 

 round, rosy, youthful-seeming, beautifully benevolent 

 face of Lord Lister. " What ! a real lord there ?" said a 

 little American girl to whom I enumerated the com- 

 pany after my first visit to the Royal Society. " Then 

 how did he act? Was he very proud and haughty, 

 as if he could not speak to other people?" And I was 

 happy to be able to reply that though Lord Lister, per- 

 haps of all men living, would be most excusable did he 

 carry in his manner the sense of his achievements and 

 honors, yet in point of fact no man could conceivably 

 be more free from any apparent self -consciousness. 

 As one watches him now he is seen to pass from group 

 to group with cordial hand-shake and pleasant word, 

 clearly the most affable of men, lord though he be, and 

 president of the Royal Society, and foremost scientist 

 of his time. 



Presently an attendant passed through the tea- 

 room bearing a tremendous silver mace, perhaps five 

 feet long, surmounted by a massive crown and cross, 

 and looking like nothing so much as a "gigantic war- 

 club." This is the mace which, when deposited on 

 the president's desk in the lecture-room beyond, will 

 signify that the society is in session. "It is the veri- 

 table mace," some one whispers at your elbow, "con- 

 cerning which Cromwell gave his classical command 

 to 'Remove that bauble." But since the mace was 

 not made until 1663, some five years after Cromwell's 

 death, this account may lack scientific accuracy. Be 

 that as it may, this mace has held its own far more 



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