162 MEMOIR OF GEORGE WILSON. CHAP. IV. 



diary chapels, and neither figure nor allegory ! His birth, his 

 death, his name, and a few words more, cover the stone ; not 

 that any pile would have made him more noble, but it would 

 have shown a wish to ennoble him. What, after all, is fame ? 

 The man who walked with us, pointing to Sir H. Davy's tomb, 

 said, ' See, sir, he was a Baronet/ That was all the merit he had 

 in his eye. Fame is a bubble; but, like the soap -bell, it is a 

 beautiful one painted over with very bright hues, and arrayed 

 in most enticing colours. It may burst in the grasp, but it is 

 beautiful till it hath burst. 



" Were you to wander along the streets as I do, finding abun- 

 dant occupation and pleasure in watching the flood of faces that 

 rolls past, you would be at no loss to guess the subject of each 

 one's thoughts. Business business business, is written in 

 letters of black, with squaring of red, on each ledger -like face, 

 with pens seemingly steel-pens, to judge from the lines they 

 leave on each shrewd countenance. Yet is this stir of business 

 healthful and exhilarating ! 'Tis true they are worshipping 

 Mammon ; yet are they putting forth great mental energies and 

 much talent, and power is to be respected, for whatever ends it 

 works. 



"I dined last night with Professor Graham, and I spent a 

 very happy evening among a circle of young chemists. I stayed 

 behind them all, and had a long talk with him, from which I 

 learned a great deal. I did not get home till one o'clock, so 

 great are the distances." 



" I am afraid I shall not see Faraday. He's not in town 

 at present, and his lectures are not begun; nor shall I be 

 present at a meeting of the Royal or any other of the Societies. 

 This is just the worst period of the year for all these things. 

 Some of them begin in November, the majority not till Feb- 

 ruary, the beginning of the fashionable season, when the titled 

 people return to town. I must, therefore, depart without seeing 

 these men and things. Yet there is still a chance of seeing 

 Faraday ; but I fear none of beholding the Queen." 



Of this period Daniel says, " My lodgings were then at the 

 extreme eastern verge of London's suburbs, in the village of 

 Stratford-le-Bow, on the borders of Essex, into which we occa- 



