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and misleading. I received no reply either to my letter or to the review.

When I was at Montreal in 1887, Mr. Iles, the manager of the Windsor Hotel in that city, called my attention to a most humorous critical rhapsody which Mr. Butler had written after his recent visit to Canada and sent to the Spectator. As I do not think it has appeared elsewhere, and is a good example of his fantastic genius, I here give it from a copy furnished me by Mr. Iles.


[The city of Montreal is one of the most rising and, in many respects, most agreeable on the American continent, but its inhabitants are as yet too busy with commerce to care greatly about the masterpieces of old Greek Art. A cast, however, of one of these masterpieces-the finest of the several statues of Discoboli, or Quoit-throwers—was found by the present writer in the Montreal Museum of Natural History; it was, however, banished from public view, to a room where were all manner of skins, plants, snakes, insects, etc., and in the middle of these, an old man stuffing an owl. The dialogue-perhaps true, perhaps imaginary, perhaps a little of one and a little of the other-between the writer and the old man gave rise to the lines that follow.)

Stowed away in a Montreal lumber-room,
The Discobolus standeth, and turneth his face to the wall ;
Dusty, cobweb-covered, maimed and set at naught,
Beauty crieth in an attic, and no man regardeth.

Oh God! oh Montreal!
Beautiful by night and day, beautiful in summer and winter,
Whole or maimed, always and alike beautiful,
He preacheth gospel of grace to the skins of owls,
And to one who seasoneth the skins of Canadian owls.

Oh God! oh Montreal !
When I saw him, I was wroth, and I said, “O Discobolus !
Beautiful Discobolus, a Prince both among gods and men,
What doest thou here, how camest thou here, Discobolus,
Preaching gospel in vain to the skins of owls ?"

Oh God! oh Montreal!

And I turned to the man of skins, and said unto him,“Oh! thou man of

skins, Wherefore hast thou done this, to shame the beauty of the Discobolus ?” But the Lord had hardened the heart of the man of skins, And he answered, “My brother-in-law is haberdasher to Mr. Spurgeon."

Oh God! oh Montreal !

The Discobolus is put here because he is vulgar,-
He hath neither vest nor pants with which to cover his limbs ;
I, sir, am a person of most respuctable connections,-
My brother-in-law is haberdasher to Mr. Spurgeon.”

Oh God! oh Montreal !

Then I said, “O brother-in-law to Mr. Spurgeon's haberdasher !
Who seasonest also the skins of Canadian owls,
Thou callest 'trousers ''pants,' whereas I call them 'trousers,'
Therefore thou art in hell-fire, and may the Lord pity thee !

Oh God! oh Montreal !

“Preferrest thou the gospel of Montreal to the gospel of Hellas, The gospel of thy connection with Mr. Spurgeon's haberdasher to the

gospel of the Discobolus ?" Yet none the less blasphemed he beauty saying, “The Discobolus hath

no gospel,But my brother-in-law is haberdasher to Mr. Spurgeon.”

Oh God! oh Montreal !

In June, 1863, an article appeared in the Annals and Magazine of Natural History by the Rev. S. Haughton, entitled “On the Bee's Cell and the Origin of Species.” At that time I was eager to enter the lists with any one who attacked natural selection or Darwin's exposition of it. This article was full of the usual errors and misconceptions, some of the most absurd nature, but all set forth as if with the weight of authority in a scientific periodical. I accordingly replied in the October number of the Annals, and criticized the critic rather severely. Mr. Haughton had written : “The true cause of the shape of the cell is the crowding together of the bees at work, as was first shown by Buffon"-a view which Darwin had disproved both by observation of many distinct species of bees, and by careful experiment with the honey-bee, as I explained in the article. He then argues that “if economy of wax" was the essential cause of the bees forming hexagon cells out of circular ones, by gnawing away the solid angles, as Darwin observed them doing, we ought to find a series of species, some making triangular, others square cells, because these are the forms which geometrically come next to the hexagon in economy of wax to a given area ! quite overlooking the fact that the primitive cells are proved

to be circular, and that circles in contact cannot be changed by any gradual process of modification involving saving of wax into triangles or squares.

He then charges Darwin with three unwarrantable assumptions, which he declares he “brings to the ground like a child's house of cards." These are (1) “The indefinite varia. tion of species continuously in the one direction ;” (2) “That the causes of variation, viz. natural advantage in the struggle for existence (Darwin), are sufficient to account for the effects asserted to be produced ;" and (3) “That succession implies causation ; that the Palæozoic Cephalopoda produced the red-sandstone fishes; that these in turn gave birth to the Liassic reptiles, etc." I easily showed that all these alleged

assumptions” of Darwin are absurd misrepresentations of his real statements; and I concluded by applying his own words with regard to Darwinians as being really applicable to himself: “No progress in natural science is possible so long as men will take their rude guesses at truth for facts, and substitute the fancies of their imagination for the sober rules of reasoning."

This criticism gave great offence to Dr. John Edward Gray, of the British Museum, who, when I next met him, told me that I ought not to have written in such a tone of ridicule of a man who was much older and more learned than myself.

Mr. Haughton, however, seems to have taken it in good part and to have forgotten it, for eighteen years later, when he was F.R.S., Senior Lecturer of Trinity College, and Professor of Geology in Dublin University, he sent me a copy of his “ Lectures on Physical Geography," inscribed “With the best respects of the author.”

A little later I received from him the following letter :

“Trinity College, Dublin, April, 25, 1882. “ MY DEAR MR. WALLACE,

“I have received your kind letter of 20th inst, for which I feel much obliged. If the statements about gulfstreams in my last paper support your own views rather

than mine, no one will admit the result more readily than myself.

“I fear that I shall not have the pleasure of seeing your degree conferred on the 29th June, as I shall have to attend the General Medical Council in London on the 27th June.

“I was asked by the Provost and Senior Fellows to recommend two names for Honorary Degrees in Physical and Natural Science, and I chose Dr. Siemens and yourself as worthy representatives of the two 'poles of science.'

“I am, yours very truly,


Dr. Haughton did, however, return before I left Dublin, and I had the great pleasure one morning of breakfasting with him and the other members of the managing committee at the Zoological Gardens, and of enjoying his instructive and witty conversation. The brilliant midsummer morning, the cosy room looking over the beautiful gardens, and the highly agreeable and friendly party assembled rendered this one of the many pleasant recollections of my life.



HAVING now lived in London eight years, and having finished, as I then thought, my chief literary work-my "Malay Archipelago”—I had a great longing for life in the country where I could devote much of my time to gardening and rural walks. My wife also was very fond of country life, so I began to look about for a place in which to settle. At this time it had been decided to build a museum in East London to illustrate both art and nature, and having the strong support and influence of Sir Charles Lyell, and through him of Lord Ripon, I felt much too confident of obtaining the directorship of it. I therefore determined to look out for a suitable place in Essex, where I should have easy access to the museum at Bethnal Green if I obtained the post, while, at all events, land would be cheaper there than in the more fashionable districts of the south and west.

As a kind of halfway house, I took an old cottage at Barking-Holly Lodge—to which we moved in March, 1870, and where I was still almost in London. Though Barking was a miserable kind of village, surrounded by marshes and ugly factories, there were yet some pleasant walks along the Thames and among the meadows, while within a quarter of a mile of us was a well-preserved tumulus close to an old farmhouse. Here, too, we had some very pleasant neighbours, Sir Antonis Brady at Stratford, whom I had often visited with my friend Silk, and who had a fine collection of fossils from the gravels of the district; Mr. C. M. Ingleby, the Shakespearean commentator, who was interested in spiritualism;

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