At last the lecture came to an end—­I am inclined to think that it was a premature one, as the peroration was hurried and disconnected.  The thread of the argument had been rudely broken, and the audience was restless and expectant.  Waldron sat down, and, after a chirrup from the chairman, Professor Challenger rose and advanced to the edge of the platform.  In the interests of my paper I took down his speech verbatim.

“Ladies and Gentlemen,” he began, amid a sustained interruption from the back.  “I beg pardon—­Ladies, Gentlemen, and Children—­I must apologize, I had inadvertently omitted a considerable section of this audience” (tumult, during which the Professor stood with one hand raised and his enormous head nodding sympathetically, as if he were bestowing a pontifical blessing upon the crowd), “I have been selected to move a vote of thanks to Mr. Waldron for the very picturesque and imaginative address to which we have just listened.  There are points in it with which I disagree, and it has been my duty to indicate them as they arose, but, none the less, Mr. Waldron has accomplished his object well, that object being to give a simple and interesting account of what he conceives to have been the history of our planet.  Popular lectures are the easiest to listen to, but Mr. Waldron” (here he beamed and blinked at the lecturer) “will excuse me when I say that they are necessarily both superficial and misleading, since they have to be graded to the comprehension of an ignorant audience.” (Ironical cheering.) “Popular lecturers are in their nature parasitic.” (Angry gesture of protest from Mr. Waldron.) “They exploit for fame or cash the work which has been done by their indigent and unknown brethren.  One smallest new fact obtained in the laboratory, one brick built into the temple of science, far outweighs any second-hand exposition which passes an idle hour, but can leave no useful result behind it.  I put forward this obvious reflection, not out of any desire to disparage Mr. Waldron in particular, but that you may not lose your sense of proportion and mistake the acolyte for the high priest.”  (At this point Mr. Waldron whispered to the chairman, who half rose and said something severely to his water-carafe.) “But enough of this!” (Loud and prolonged cheers.) “Let me pass to some subject of wider interest.  What is the particular point upon which I, as an original investigator, have challenged our lecturer’s accuracy?  It is upon the permanence of certain types of animal life upon the earth.  I do not speak upon this subject as an amateur, nor, I may add, as a popular lecturer, but I speak as one whose scientific conscience compels him to adhere closely to facts, when I say that Mr. Waldron is very wrong in supposing that because he has never himself seen a so-called prehistoric animal, therefore these creatures no longer exist.  They are indeed, as he has said, our ancestors, but they are, if I may use the