48 



MY LIFE 



[Chap, 



in some measure upon previous habits, whether the punch, when mixed, 

 will be taken in excess or in moderation. It may become a dangerous 

 ally of gravity and bring a sentient being to the gutter. But, on the 

 other hand, it may become the potent inner stimulus of a noble outward 

 life. 



I was also honoured by being admitted to the fraternity 

 of the " Red Lions," who fed together during each meeting 

 of the association and expressed applause by gentle roars 

 and wagging of (coat) tails. On these occasions all kinds of 

 jokes were permissible, and speeches were made and songs 

 sung by the scientific humourists assembled. At Edinburgh 

 in 1 87 1, Lord Neaves, a well-known wit and song- writer, was 

 a guest, and gave us some of his own compositions, especially 

 that on " The Origin of Species a la Darwin " — which he 

 recited standing up and with very fine humour. The follow- 

 ing verses are samples : — 



" A very tall Pig with a very long nose 

 Sends forth a proboscis right down to his toes. 

 And then by the name of an Elephant goes. 



Which Nobody can Deny ! 



" An Ape with a pliable thumb and big brain. 

 When the gift of the gab he had managed to gain. 

 As Lord of Creation established his reign. 



Which Nobody can Deny ! " 



And so on for twelve verses, and encouraging roars and great 

 final tail-wagging. 



The most deplorable event in my experience of the 

 association was the choice of the late Duke of Buccleuch 

 as President for 1867, at Dundee; proposed, as I understood, 

 by Sir Roderick Murchison and weakly agreed to by his 

 colleagues. The President's Address has, in every other case, 

 been considered a very serious affair, requiring the labour of 

 some months to compose, in order to render it worthy of an 

 audience consisting practically of the best scientific intellect 

 of our country. But the president on this occasion evidently 

 considered it a condescension on his part to be there at all. 

 He began by telling us that he had never written a speech 

 in his life, and never intended to ; that he knew very little 



