Do you understand this?  I know you do; our old oneness of feeling will not desert us here...

To-day a most unexpected occurrence came to my knowledge.  I must tell you that the Queen places at the disposal of the Royal Society once a year a valuable gold medal to be given to the author of the best paper upon either a physical, chemical, or anatomical or physiological subject.  One of these branches of science is chosen by the Royal Society for each year, and therefore for any given subject—­say anatomy and physiology; it becomes a triennial prize, and is given to the best memoir in the “Transactions” for three years.

It happens that the Royal Medal, as it is called, is this year given in Anatomy and Physiology.  I had no idea that I had the least chance of getting it, and made no effort to do so.  But I heard this morning from a member of the Council that the award was made yesterday, and that I was within an ace of getting it.  Newport, a man of high standing in the scientific world, and myself were the two between whom the choice rested, and eventually it was given to him, on account of his having a greater bulk of matter in his papers, so evenly did the balance swing.  Had I only had the least idea that I should be selected they should have had enough and to spare from me.  However, I do not grudge Newport his medal; he is a good sort and a worthy competitor, old enough to be my father, and has long had a high reputation.  Except for its practical value as a means of getting a position I care little enough for the medal.  What I do care for is the justification which the being marked in this position gives to the course I have taken.  Obstinate and self-willed as I am...there are times when grave doubts overshadow my mind, and then such testimony as this restores my self-confidence.

To let you know the full force of what I have been saying, I must tell you that this “Royal Medal” is what such men as Owen and Faraday are glad to get, and is indeed one of the highest honours in England.

To-day I had the great pleasure of meeting my old friend Sir John Richardson (to whom I was mainly indebted for my appointment in the “Rattlesnake").  Since I left England he has married a third wife, and has taken a hand in joining in search of Franklin (which was more dreadful?), like an old hero as he is; but not a feather of him is altered, and he is as grey, as really kind, and as seemingly abrupt and grim, as ever he was.  Such a fine old polar bear!

CHAPTER 1.6.

1851-1854.

[The course pursued by the Government in the matter of Huxley’s papers is curious and instructive.  The Admiralty minute of 1849 had promised either money assistance for publishing or speedy promotion as an encouragement to scientific research in the Navy, especially by the medical officers.  On leave to publish the scientific results of the expedition being asked for, the Department forestalled any request for monetary aid by an intimation that none would be given.  Strong representations, however, from the leading scientific authorities induced them to grant the appointment to the “Fisguard” for six months.