IN MEMORIAM. — WILLIAM CRAWFORD WILLIAMSON, LL.D., F.R.S. 101 
peaceful calm and affection of that household were a great help to 
the Professor in his arduous studies. As a man he was genial, 
shrewd, observant, versatile, and of an untiring energy ; one of his 
memorialists compares (1 think appropriately), his " transparent 
egotism " with that of the author of " The Autocrat of the Break- 
fast Table." He was a good typical Yorkshireman, and quite able to 
hold his own on all occasions. 
He formed the finest collection in the world of microscopic sec- 
tions of Coal Measure Plants, which is now in the possession of the 
British Museum. None are better acquainted with this collection 
than his friend Count Solms-Laubach, who, in his " Einleitung in 
die Pala^ophytologie," says that he soon realised that it was quite 
impossible to produce such a book without an accurate knowledge of 
Williamson's collection of sections. 
I shall not attempt here any critical estimate of his scientific 
work. Something in that direction may be found in Nature, vol. 5, 
Sept., 1895, from the pen of Count Solms-Laubach. 
That he was the great leader in Paloeophytology of his age and 
.shed a flood of light on its obscure problems is not questioned. 
In the large Geological Room at Owens College, Manchester, 
may be seen an immense Stigmarian Root or Rhizome — surely a 
magnificent monument to Dr. Williamson. 
The late Mr. J. W. Davis, F.G.S., &c., of Chevinedge, Halifax, 
has thus described his visit with Dr. Williamson to see this famous 
Stigmaria. 
" On the morning we had arranged to see the Clayton tree rain 
poured in torrents, and I tried in vain to persuade Dr. Williamson 
to postpone his journey. At Halifax we left the main line for a local 
one. After travelling several miles up the line we went out into the 
rain, and proceeded to tramp along unprotected upland paths, or in 
sodden grass, through a perfect hurricane of wind ; before half the 
distance was accomplished our boots had become pools, and our 
clothes were saturated- When we reached the quarry not a living 
soul was near, only the grey sky above, grey Yorkshire hills around, 
and the storm raging, when the old geologist met face to face the 
thing he had hoped so long to see." As he stood and gazed at the 
