of his work without resenting it as personal. I well remember the late excellent William Hopkins describing to me his astonishment when, at the meeting of the British Association at York, a purely scientific remark of his on Forbes's glacier theory was turned, with sudden acerbity, into a personal matter. It is of a discussion arising out of this remark that Principal Forbes writes thus: "We had a postponed discussion on glaciers on Saturday morning, when Hopkins and I did battle, and I am sorry to say I felt it exceedingly; it discomposed my nerves and made me very uncomfortable indeed, until I was soothed by the minster-service yesterday."[1]
But no amount of "minster-service" could cope with so strong a natural bias, and many a bitter drop fell from the pen of Principal Forbes into the lives of those whom he opposed subsequent to this service at York. On hearing of the paper presented by Mr. Huxley and myself to the Royal Society, he at once jumped to the conclusion that the glaciers were to be made a "regular party question." "All I can do," he says, "is to sit still till the indictment is made out; and I cordially wish my enemy to write a book and print it speedily, as any thing is better than innuendo and suspense."[2] What he meant by "indictment" I do not know; and, with regard to "innuendo," neither of the writers of the paper would be likely to resort to it in preference to plain speaking. The words of a witty philosopher at the time here referred to are significant: "Tyndall," he said, "is beginning with ice, but he will end in hot water." He knew the circumstances, and was able to predict the course of events with the certainty of physical prevision.
The quality referred to by his biographer, and the tendency arising from it to look at things in a personal light, caused his intellect to run rapidly into hypotheses of moral action which had no counterpart in real life. I read with simple amazement his explanation to his friend Mr. Wills of the postponement of the publication of the "Glaciers of the Alps." Some of his supporters in the Council of the Royal Society had proposed him for the Copley Medal, but without success. Had the rules of good taste been observed, he would have known nothing of these discussions; and, knowing them, he ought to have ignored them. But he writes to his friend: "I believe the effect of the struggle, though unsuccessful in its immediate object, will be to render Tyndall and Huxley and their friends more cautious in their further proceedings. For instance, Tyndall's book, again withdrawn from Murray's 'immediate' list, will probably be infinitely more carefully worded relative to Rendu than he first intended."[3]
I should be exceedingly sorry to apply to Principal Forbes the noun-substantive which Byron, in "Childe Harold," applied to Rousseau, but the adjective "self-torturing" is, I fear, only too applicable. His quick imagination suggested chimerical causes for events, but
