24 THE ENTOMOLOGIST S RECORD. 
Geneva—his native town. He was so active, almost to the last, that 
those who were not in daily intercourse with him scarcely realised he 
had long been suffering from an internal trouble; he will be sorely 
missed by a large circle of friends and students for as a matter of fact, 
most of his students were his friends also, as in the largeness of his 
soul he drew young men to him in a wonderful way. It is several 
years since I had the pleasure of meeting him, though we had more 
than once recently tried to arrange our summer holidays together, but 
each time something intervened to upset it. I well remember, how- 
ever, our last evening together, and how he impressed me, all un- 
consciously to himself, with the wideness of his reading as well as of his 
research, though perhaps the greatest characteristic of the man was 
his innate modesty, whilst a quiet courtesy of manner was blended with 
an essential manliness of being in a way that is not often met with. 
Naturally somewhat reserved, he was nevertheless an excellent and 
most interesting conversationalist, and he had a grace about him that 
charmed and endeared him to all. In this country we should say that 
he took his degree in classics, and language came to him“ naturally, 
and though (as I think he told me) he had never been to England, yet 
his ear for sound, in addition to his reading of English literature, | 
enabled him to understand the Enelish language provided it was 
enunciated slowly. No doubt his classical education helped to bring 
this about. 
As a collector and observer he was very keen, with an eye as sharp 
as a hawk’s, and I have happy memories of several excursions with 
him, the last of which was, I believe, up the Dourbes valley—he and I 
had wandered on beyond our companions and crossed the sandy river 
to a spot that promised good things, but the promise was not equal to 
our expectations. We however stuck to it, when I sawa blackish but- 
terfly that I could not make out, so up the hill after it I went and was 
fortunate enough to secure it, but when in the box the puzzle was not 
solved, and I did not recognise that I had captured the melanic aber- 
ration of Melanargia galathea until I rejoined the Professor, when as I 
handed my box to him I well remember the look of delight that came 
over his face in returning it to me, with the remark, “ trés preciease— 
Melanargia galathea var. lugens.” It is little incidents like this that 
show the refined character of the man, for my good fortune seemed to 
give him just as much pleasure as if it had happened to himself. I 
believe this was quite typical of him, for he naturally had the gift of 
sympathy, and where he was, there we might be sure of finding young 
men as well as his own contemporaries, all attracted by the fineness of 
his nature, quite as much by his love of his profession and his keen- 
ness in natural history, or whatever might be the subject that was 
occupying his attention for the time being. 
He often sent me exotics to identify, and his remarks on my iden- 
tifications (when | did not happen to have referred the species to their 
near allies), showed with what detail he had gone into the literature of 
the subject and what a careful and sound judgment was given to all 
he undertook. 
We lose in him a man with a great soul, a great love of all things 
beautiful, a keen discerner of men, and one who, in the very prime of 
life, could ill be spared. Very many friends will sorely mourn his 
loss.—G.T.B-B. 
