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upper mark, eight feet from the floor, recorded the height of a giant called Kejanas, and the lower, three feet high, that of a dwarf who bore the name of Simon Paap! These seem to have exhausted the ecclesiastical curiosities of Haarlem. Unfortunately we missed, by a few days, the bloom of flowers and "Dutch roots" famous in the neighbourhood. From what we saw, that sea of colour must be very beautiful when shining in its full tide of glory.

Every one knows that the Haarlem Sea has been at last drained. A noble work! I forget how many thousand acres have been pumped dry, or how many millions of tons of water have been weekly pouring out of this enormous tub for years. But the waters have finally left the earth, and the whole land is divided into polders, and becoming a green plain-pasturing cattle, amusing storks, supporting villages, and receiving the admiration of the industrious natives, who work and smoke their pipes in peace and safety on their fields, fifteen feet below high-water mark. Another run in the Spurweg, and a peep into Leyden and the Hague, and then we shall return home, good reader!

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'Tis that upon consumption's cheek, Blooming though pale,

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made

went,

Dark back-ground 'gainst the sky. Thither I And bade my spirit drink that lonely draught, For which it long had languish'd 'mid the strife And fever of the world. I thought to be

There without witness. But the violet's eye Look'd up upon me, the fresh wild-rose smiled, And the young pendant vine-flower kiss'd my cheek.

And there were voices too. The garrulous brook,

Untiring, to the patient pebbles told
Its history: up came the singing breeze,
And the broad leaves of the cool poplar spake
Responsive, every one. Even busy life
Woke in that dell. The tireless spider threw,
From spray to spray, her silver-tissued snare.
The wary ant, whose curving pincers pierced
The treasured grain, toil'd toward her citadel.
To the sweet lime went forth the loaded bee,
And from the wind-rock'd nest the mother bird

Out of some brighter world doth gently break Sang to her nurslings.

And whisper a sweet tale

Of better things.

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The noiseless brook its banks along Winds like a lake,

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THE BRITISH ASSOCIATION-ITS MEN.

No. I.

We are not willing to allow the recent meeting of the British Association to pass away without a record of it in our pages. And we therefore mean to devote a few papers to its men, its results, and its recreations. For the present, we shall confine our attention to a few of the more illustrious personages that graced the meeting with their presence.

It is true that in science and philosophy we do not experience so great a curiosity, as in other walks of distinction, to know the private history of eminent men. In the case of the soldier, the statesman, or the philanthropist, we feel that their public deeds are only half known if we are ignorant of their character as exhibited in private life, and the unreserved intercourse with friends; and hence the avidity with which the lives of men distinguished in such walks are read. This curiosity, we say, does not hold so strongly in the case of the philosopher or the man of science, still, it is difficult to repress all curiosity, or to deal with the discoverer or inventor as a pure abstraction. The lives of such men are usually uneventful, but we still like to take a peep into the quiet life which is productive of such wondrous results. In regard to mental philosophy, one of the most readable, though not one of the soundest books on the subject, is Lewes' Biographical History of Philosophy, to which he has imparted an unwonted interest, from his weaving the personal history of the philosopher with the exposition of his philosophy. The interest which the uneventful life of the man of science may excite, is illustrated by the many biographies of Newton, and more especially by the last elaborate one by Sir David Brewster. And we cannot envy the man who would not read the Principia with a double relish after perusing such interesting accounts of his private life. What new interest, too, does the history of the steamengine derive from the private life of Watt! The great stimulus to distinction

must ever be the love of knowledge for its own sake; but the student derives no little encouragement, when pursuing his tangled path, by getting a glimpse of the inner life of the distinguished men who have lived before him, and who were perplexed with like difficulties. But we must now proceed to our more immediate object.

As in duty bound, we shall commence with the president, who is supposed to be always either eminent for science himself, or in a position to further the interests of science. Many of our scientific societies, such as the Royal Society, oscillate between science and social position in filling their posts of honour. And much can be said on either side; but there is now a levelling tendency manifested to ignore mere rank as a title to such honours. If social or political position is still to retain its claim, the honour could not, on the present occasion, be more appropriately bestowed than on the Duke of Argyle. Though not strictly speaking a man of science, he has yet a high appreciation of the results of science, and a generous sympathy with all scientific labourers. He has dipped a good deal into natural history. At a former meeting he read an interesting paper on some geological discoveries of his own; and in proposing the health of Prince Lucien Buonaparte, he referred to his early taste for ornithology; and, we doubt not, his love of nature still exercises its soothing and elevating influence upon his mind, when perplexed by the fretting cares of the state. When we saw him occupying the president's chair, we could not but vividly recal the meeting, fifteen years before, at which he was present. He was then a mere boy in a short jacket, and his yellow hair was then as luxuriant and conspicuous as now. He took no part in the proceedings; but Professor Buckland, over whose intellect a dark cloud has now gathered, predicted that he would be one of the first men of the age. It

was on that occasion, also, that he de- than geologists in general; and he someclared he would be ready to sacrifice his times takes part in the discussions of the right hand that he might write in such a Mathematical and Physical Section. His style as Hugh Miller. It was thought, distinction lies rather in the extent of his at the time, that the eulogy on the Mar- knowledge than in original research. He quess of Lorne was overdone, and that it is up to every debatable point on geology, would be apt to spoil a youth, who, from and he has an extraordinary readiness his home education, was but too likely which serves him well in debate. His to form exaggerated and conceited no- volubility is quite surprising; and though tions of himself. It is greatly to his apparently heedless of the expressions he credit that he seems to have successfully uses, he always puts the right words in resisted the evil effects of unwise adu- the right places. Though prone to carp lation. It is, however, but just to the and cavil at young theoretical geologists, sagacious foresight of Buckland, to ac- he is a general favourite, and in all exknowledge that the two men who were cursions he is the life of the party. His thus so loudly lauded, occupied the most quickness of eye and readiness of expresconspicuous places fifteen years after- sion enable him to perform prodigies, wards. Sir Charles Lyell, at one of the when surrounded by raw geologists posevening meetings, alluded to the clan title ing him with all imaginable questions. of M'Callum More. And what a con- He has admirable skill, too, in inspiring trast does this name at once suggest! The the tyro with enthusiasm. We saw a contrast between the M'Callum More of proof of this in the case of a worthy other days, raising the slogan and brand- clergyman who followed in his wake ishing the claymore, and his representa- during the geological excursion along the tive at the present day, speaking in soft shore of Arran, but who set out with the and modulated phrase to learned savans vaguest notions of geology. By the time, and fair ladies about the progress of however, that he reached the end of the science and of art; and doing it so well journey, his enthusiasm had waxed so that he far outshone the savans themselves strong, that when a vote of thanks was in appropriate expression and the flow of proposed to Mr. Phillips, he, with a pitchwords. The universal feeling was, that stone, which he had picked up as a he acted his part to perfection. He had trophy, in the one hand, and his hat in none of the awkwardness of the regular the other, rent the air with his acclamasavant in such a position, and he had tions. He felt the spirit of the philoenough of science to carry off his well-sopher rising within him; and as the rounded and well-modulated sentences. birth of this spirit was due to Mr. PhilThere was a self-possession and sense of lips, he could not repress his ardour. It propriety which put every one at ease, was quite refreshing to see Mr. Phillips, and made all the meetings at which he on the paddlebox of the steamer, with presided, come off with comfortable hat in hand, acknowledging, with a mulsmoothness. tiplicity of bows and smiles, the plaudits of the admiring crowd beneath.

The next most important functionary was Mr. Phillips, the general secretary. It is owing very much to his unwearied zeal that the Association has hung together so long, for its constitution is of so loose and popular a character, that it is peculiarly liable to dissolution. Mr. Phillips is at present reader in Oxford, in the room of Buckland. He was translated there from York. He has gained considerable distinction by his works on mineralogy and geology. He is, however, a man of more extensive acquirements

Sir David Brewster deserves a place in the first rank, not only for his scientific distinction, but also as one of the founders of the Association. He has taken a paternal interest in its prosperity; and it has not been an ungrateful child to him, as it has helped greatly to extend his fame. Sir David was licensed as a preacher of the Church of Scotland, though it was long currently reported that he broke down in the first sermon. This was contradicted by himself in a rather curious

way. A good many years ago, a writer in Fraser's Magazine gave a sketch of his life, purporting to be from the Ettrick Shepherd, and containing a good deal of waggery. Sir David wrote to the Ettrick Shepherd, who, however, was not the author, remonstrating with him, but, at the same time, sending a peace-offering in the shape of some dairy produce. In this letter of remonstrance, Sir David said that the story of his breaking down was altogether legendary, and that, on the contrary, he preached with much acceptance; and we doubt not that, if his delivery was in keeping with his attractive style of composition, he would be popular enough. As we looked upon the patriarch of the Association, with much fame and the snows of eighty years upon his head, we were vividly reminded of a story, told us some time since, illustrative of the fact that the weightiest consequences may depend on very trifling events. The shutting of a box-bed, some eighty years ago, was well nigh the cause of depriving the world of one of its brightest ornaments. The father of the future savant was the schoolmaster of the parish in which he was born; and in his dwelling was then, as in the houses of the peasantry at the present day, a bed which might be shut in very closely. Here the young philosopher was laid, shut in, and forgotten. After a considerable lapse of time he was discovered, but in so exhausted a state that his recovery was despaired of. He, however, began to gasp, and breathe more freely; and now the suffocating child is the octogenarian philosopher.

Sir David not merely affects the profundities of science, but the amenities of life; and nothing was more genial than his aspect as he threaded his way through the crowded conversazione room with some gentle listener on his arm. One could hardly believe, when looking on his serene and venerable features, that the stories of his being seen in other moods could really be true. The Association has, however, witnessed such scenes, shewing that the smoothest surface can be lashed into a tempest. Sir David's great antagonist is the Master of Trinity, Professor

Sir

Whewell. The history of the origin and progress of their feud would make a very long story; but we may thus far state the matter, that it commenced with a question about pin-holes, and ended with one about worlds. It is a common remark, that the bitterest quarrels are often about pin-points. In this case, it was pin-holes; and it raged with great animosity on both sides. It was in reference to the influence of small apertures on the transmitted beam of light. David, in great wrath, appealed from the Master to the undergraduates of Trinity. The challenge was taken up; and one of the examination papers was devoted to the demonstration of the palpable error of Sir David. We fear we must confess that the Scottish champion came off worst in the combat. The next great question debated by the combatants, was that of the power of determining distance by vision. Here, again, the Master of Trinity was victorious. It was but too plain that Sir David was no match for him in the fields of mathematics and metaphysics. However, a most tempting opportunity for a brilliant stroke presented itself when Whewell published the anonymous work, The Plurality of Worlds. Here Sir David was quite at home, as he had only to deal with the popular aspects of science. Providence sometimes turns the wrath of man to good account; and, no doubt, we owe Sir David's More Worlds than One to his old feud with the author of the obnoxious work. Sir David, in this case, we think, came off victorious, as far as Whewell's chief argument is concerned; but in rebutting the arguments of his opponent, he falls into errors far more serious than the one at which he professes to be shocked. Indeed, Sir David must, we think, have abandoned the study of orthodox Confessions along with the gift of preaching; for he could hardly have otherwise fallen into such errors while evidently desirous of being orthodox.

We had not an opportunity of seeing Dr. Whewell since the meeting in Glasgow fifteen years ago, and the change was such that we could not at first recognise him. He has lost his florid com

stamp.

Professor Sedgwick is another of the oldest members of the Association, and also one of the most regular in attendance. Years are now telling upon him, and he himself alluded to the improbability of his ever being in Glasgow again on such an occasion. His style of address is very peculiar. He speaks in an off-hand, rambling way, as if talking aloud to himself. There has been a long controversy between him and Sir Roderick Murchison, though it has been carried on in a much milder spirit than that between Brewster and Whewell. Sir Roderick appropriates the whole of a system in Wales, which he calls the Silurian formation. Professor Sedgwick claims a part of it, as quite distinct in its fossil character, and he insists upon giving it the name of the Cambrian formation. The geological question then is-Is the Cambrian only a mere appendage to the Silurian, or is it a distinct formation, representing a special period, and containing characteristic fossils? The vigour with which Professor Sedgwick has asserted his right has rather inclined geologists to divide the honour, leaving, however, the lion's share to Sir Roderick.

plexion, and the hoar of age is evidently tion of German mysticism, his mind is creeping over him. He did little more decidedly of the clear, healthy English than grace the meeting with his presence. He read no paper, and we are not aware that he joined in any discussion. He one day dropped into the section where Sir David Brewster happened, at the moment, to be making an onslaught upon him in his absence. All eyes were turned to the Master of Trinity, to see how he would take Sir David's remarks. He, however, listened only for a few moments with apparent indifference, and, as if the charges were not worthy to be listened to, turned upon his heel and departed. Many thought that the matter would not end thus, and that he would nurse his wrath till the morrow, when he would challenge Sir David to mortal combat, and all knew that Sir David would be at his post. Crowds congregated with this expectation. Sir David was there, eager for the fray; but the Master of Trinity, though present, was not forthcoming to fight, and the crowd had to turn away in disappointment. The only other occasion on which he figured was in the City Hall, when he proposed a vote of thanks to Colonel Rawlinson for his lecture. He then left an unfavourable impression of his powers of oratory. He had a great flow of words, but he had the greatest difficulty in marshalling them into their right places. It is remarkable, that one so fluent with the pen, for he is one of the most voluminous and rapid writers of the age, should exhibit such confusion and difficulty in oral address. He has also the reputation of devouring libraries-so voracious a reader is he; but without self-possession, an abundance of matter is rather an incumbrance than an aid to a speaker. And, generally speaking, after-dinner complimentary speeches are best made by men of few ideas. Whewell has, however, even in his writings, no pretensions to style. There is nothing ornate, and no attempt to round sentences. All his works have the appearance of being rapidly written, without having the benefit of careful revision. He has done good service, not only to science, but religion. His books have all a healthy tone; and although betraying, now and then, a little affecta

Geologists, generally, are inclined to look up to Sir Roderick Murchison as their chief. He is not only great as a geologist, but he has other commanding qualities which enable him easily to take the lead. With the suavity and openness of the Englishman he combines the caution and sagacity of the Scotchman. His leadership is, however, not altogether undisputed, and not a few are inclined to grumble at his despotic rule; so that we have two distinct geological coteriesschools they cannot be called-as the differences are personal rather than scientific. The greater number follow Sir Roderick, and the rest are inclined to acknowledge the standard of Sedgwick or Phillips. It is difficult to see clearly the grounds for opposing sects without any distinct scientific principles; but geology is now assuming political aspects, and is able to dispense gifts and favours. This inevitably results from its many

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