248 



THE BRITISH NATURALIST. [October 



The address of our " Most Noble President," the Marquis of 

 Salisbury, has, through the medium of the press, become the property 

 of all. The portly figure, in its black and gold academic dress, and the 

 fine resonant voice will long live in our memory. The address itself 

 was a wise, witty, and very able deliverance from a literary point of 

 view, though, no doubt, most disappointing to a pure scientist. But 

 its wisdom in the peculiar circumstances of this meeting was apparent 

 on Sunday last from many a pulpit, from the Bishop of Oxford down- 

 wards. Oh, how it soothed the amour pvopve of the clerical dons for the 

 scientists to be told how little they really knew, and how vast were the 

 profound depths of the ocean around them, where, like Sir Isaac Newton 

 of old, they could only play with the pebbles on the shore or throw in 

 their tiny plumb-lines of thought and investigation ! 



The great change which has come over the mutually antagonistic 

 elements of science and divinity of 30 years ago was very apparent. It 

 was, however, the greatest treat to see the venerated form of Professor 

 Huxley once more rise to speak in a meeting of the Association, as with 

 some of his old martial spirit, and with a clear sounding voice, did he 

 fasten upon the handsome admission of the Marquis that the doctrine 

 of evolution had killed the old theory of the immutability of species and 

 genera. One could not help but remember that 34 years ago, in this 

 very Oxford, was England's grandest savant, Charles Darwin, regularly 

 badgered by the clerical bigots of that age, who styled the leading 

 scientists as " the hotch-potch of philosophers." How very different 

 must the feelings of Professor Huxley have been ! Here in broken 

 tones he expressed his deep appreciation of the kind and sympathetic 

 words of the President, acknowledging the debt of gratitude that 

 science world-wide owed to the author of the " Origin of Species." How 

 different to the clashing of arms and the scintillations of hot yet brilliant 

 repartee at Oxford's last meeting, and how far down the ocean swell 

 must have gone since that time of stress and storm when Huxley, 

 defending his old friend, stridently told the Bishop of Oxford to his face 

 that he would rather own his descent from an intelligent baboon than 

 from bigoted ancestors of the type he had met with recently. 



The addresses of the presidents of the various sections on the 

 following day were most erudite, and made up in full bodied flavour of 

 scientific dicta whatever might be lacking in Lord Salisbury's opening 

 address. I was fortunate, perhaps, in selecting my favourite section 

 D, for there was delivered an exceptional address by Professor Bayley 

 Balfour on the interesting and intelligent topic of forestry, showing 

 how much in advance of us are the Continental states on scientific tree 

 growing. The great need for landowners turning their attention to 

 this matter, now that much land was so unremunerative, was proved 

 by the fact that we in Britain were within measurable distance of a 



