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and his often eloquent delineations of its results. I remember that some years earlier, when I asked Herbert Spencer what he thought of Buckle's “History of Civilization," which I took for granted that he had read, his reply was somewhat similar to that here given in the case of Henry George—that on looking into the book he saw that its fundamental assumption was erroneous, and therefore he did not care to read it. I believe he referred to Buckle's view of the immense influence of the aspects of nature in influencing human character, which, even if much exaggerated, cannot be said to be wholly untrue, and certainly does not destroy the value of a work of such research, eloquence, and illumination as the “History of Civilization."

The next letter of much interest I have from Herbert Spencer is, when acknowledging receipt of a copy of my little book, entitled "Bad Times," on November 21, 1885. In it he says, “Much of what I read I quite agreed with, especially the chapters on 'Foreign Loans' and 'War Expenditure.'... There is one factor which seems to me not an improbable one, which neither you nor any others have taken account of. During the past generation, one of the causes of the great exaltation of prosperity has been the development of the railway system, which while it had the effect of opening up sources of supply and means of distribution, had also the effect during a long period of greatly exalting certain industries concerned in construction. There was consequently a somewhat abnormal degree of prosperity, which lasted long enough to furnish a standard of good times, and to be mistaken for the normal condition. Now that this unusual and temporary cause of prosperity has in considerable measure diminished, we are feeling the effect.

This was no doubt true, and in the case of America I had adduced the railway mania in the United States, from 1869 to 1873, and our own over-production of shipping while we were supplying the whole world with rails and engines, as causes of the subsequent depression in both countries.

The last three letters I received from Herbert Spencer were in 1894 and 1895, all on the subject of what he termed “the absurdity of Lord Salisbury's representation of the process of natural selection” in his British Association address at Oxford, wishing me to write to the Times, pointing out his errors, which were influencing many persons and writers in the press, and suggesting certain points I should especially deal with. He concluded, “ It behoves you of all men to take up the gauntlet he has thus thrown down." I replied, declining the task, on the ground that I did not think Lord Salisbury's influence in a matter of science of much importance, and that I thought my time better employed in writing such articles on social and political, as well as general scientific questions which then interested me. To this he replied that he did not at all agree with me, and that "articles in the papers show that Lord Salisbury's argument is received with triumph, and unless it is disposed of, it will lead to a public reaction against the doctrine of evolution at large.”

As I still declined to go into this controversy, having dealt with the whole matter in my “Darwinism," and still being sceptical as to any great effects being produced by the address in question, he wrote me a month later as follows: “As I cannot get you to deal with Lord Salisbury, I have decided to do it myself, having been finally exasperated into doing it by this honour paid to his address in France—the presentation of a translation to the French Academy. The impression produced upon some millions of people in England cannot be allowed to be thus further confirmed without protest.” He then asked me for some references, which I sent him, and his criticism of Lord Salisbury duly appeared, and was thoroughly well done, so that I had no reason to regret not having undertaken it myself. This was the latest letter I received from him ; but during his last illness my wife, being in Brighton, called to make inquiries after his health, and left our cards, and I received a kindly expressed card in reply, written by his amanuensis, but signed with his own initials. It is dated November 28, 1903, ten days before his death.

Among his intimate friends, Herbert Spencer was always interesting from the often unexpected way in which he would apply the principles of evolution to the commonest topics of conversation, and he was always ready to take part in any social amusement. He once or twice honoured me by coming to informal meetings of friends at my little house in St. Mark's Crescent, and I also met him at Sir John Lubbock's very pleasant week-end visits, and also at Huxley's, in St. John's Wood. Once I remember dining informally with Huxley, the only other guests being Tyndall and Herbert Spencer. The latter appeared in a dress-coat, whereupon Huxley and Tyndall chaffed him, as setting a bad example, and of being untrue to his principles, quoting his Essay on “Manners and Fashion," but all with the most good-humoured banter. Spencer took it in good part, and defended himself well, declaring that the coat was a relic of his early unregenerate days, and where could he wear it out if not at the houses of his best friends? Besides," he concluded, “ you will please to observe that I am true to principle in that I do not wear a white tie!"

Those who are acquainted only with the volumes of Herbert Spencer's “Synthetic Philosophy" can have no idea of the lightness, the energy, and the bright satire of some of his more popular writings. Such are many of his earlier Essays, and in his volume on “The Study of Sociology” we find abundant examples of these qualities. In conclusion, I may remark that, although I differ greatly from him on certain important matters, both of natural and social science, and have never hesitated to state my reasons for those differences with whatever force of fact and argument I could bring to bear upon them, I yet look upon these as but spots on the sun of his great intellectual powers, and feel it to be an honour to have been his contemporary, and, to a limited extent, his friend and coadjutor.

With the remainder of my scientific friends I had, for the most part, only social intercourse, with no correspondence of general interest. Those I saw most of during my residence VOL. II.

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in London, and with whom I became most intimate, were Huxley, Tyndall, Sir John Lubbock, Dr. W. B. Carpenter, Sir William Crookes, Sir Joseph Hooker, Mr. Francis Galton, Professor Alfred Newton, Dr. P. L. Slater, Mr. St. George Mivart, Sir William Flower, Sir Norman Lockyer, Professor R. Meldola, and many others whose names are only known to specialists. All these I met very frequently at scientific meetings, or at some of their houses at which I was occasionally a guest. To all of them I have been more or less indebted for valuable information or useful suggestions in the course of my work, and to these I must also add Professor E. B. Poulton, of Oxford ; F. W. H. Myers, Professors W. F. Barrett and Percival Wright, of Dublin, with Professors Patrick Geddes, of Edinburgh, and J. A. Thomson, of Aberdeen. For the last quarter of a century I have lived so completely in the country that I have ceased to have personal intercourse with most of them; and of those still among us, I can only say here that I hope and believe they all continue to be my very good friends. In future chapters I may have to refer to some of them again, in connection with special conditions of my life. Here I will only give a few indications as to my personal relations with a few of them.

Of all those I have mentioned I became, I think, most intimate with Huxley. At an early date after my return home he asked me to his house in Marlborough Place, where I soon became very friendly with his children, then all quite young, all very animated, and not at all shy. Mrs. Huxley was also exceedingly kind and pleasant, and the whole domestic tone of the house was such as to make me quite at my ease, which is what happens to me with only a few persons. I used often to go there on Sunday afternoons, or to spend the evening, while I was several times asked to dine to meet persons of similar pursuits to my own. One of those occasions that I particularly remember was to meet Dr. Miklucho Maklay, a Russian anthropologist, who was going to New Guinea, and as I was the only Englishman who had lived some months alone in that country, Huxley thought we should be interested with each other,

Maklay was a small, wiry man, somewhat younger than myself; he spoke English well, and told us all about what he was going to do. His idea was that you could really learn nothing about natives unless you lived with them and became almost one of themselves; above all, you must win their confidence, and must therefore begin by trusting them absolutely. He proposed to go in a Russian warship, and be left for a year at some part of the north coast where Europeans were wholly unknown, with one servant, but without visible arms. This was, I think, in the winter of 1870-71. Both Huxley and myself thought this plan exceedingly risky, but he determined to try it; and he succeeded, but through the exercise of an amount of coolness and courage which very few men indeed possess. He returned to Russia to complete his preparations, and in September, 1871, was landed in Astrolabe Bay with two servants, one a Swede and the other a Polynesian. The ship's carpenter built him a small hut, fourteen feet by seven feet, and then the ship sailed away and left him totally unprotected. As soon as it was seen that the ship was completely out of sight, large numbers of natives, armed with knives, bows, and spears, gathered round his hut and soon began to make warlike demonstrations, which went on more or less for some days. They would shoot arrows close to his head or body, or draw their bow to the full with the arrow directed to his chest, and then loose the string with a twang, while holding back the arrow; but he sat still and smiled, knowing, I suppose, that if they really meant to kill him that was hardly the way they would do it, and that in any case he could not possibly escape them. At other times they would run at him with their spears, or press the spear-point against his teeth till he was forced to open his mouth. But finding that he was brave, that he did not try to escape them, and also finding that he

“medicine" man, could heal their wounds and cure the sick, they gradually came to consider him as a friend and even as a supernatural being. Soon one servant died, and the other was almost constantly ill, so that the doctor had plenty to do; but he lived with these people for fifteen

was a

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