Whether the Government accede to the demand that will be made upon them or not, I can now rest satisfied that no means of influencing them has been left unused by me.  If they will not listen to the conjoint recommendations of the Royal Society and the British Association, they will listen to nothing...

July 16, 1851.

I went yesterday to dine with Colonel Sabine.  We had a long discourse about the prospects and probable means of existence of young men trying to make their way to an existence in the scientific world.  I took, as indeed what I have seen has forced me to take, rather the despairing side of the question, and said that as it seemed to me England did not afford even the means of existence to young men who were willing to devote themselves to science.  However, he spoke cheeringly, and advised me by no means to be hasty, but to wait, and he doubted not that I should succeed.  He cited his own case as an instance of waiting, eventually successful.  Altogether I felt the better for what he said...

There has been a notice of me in the “Literary Gazette” for last week, much more laudatory than I deserve, from the pen of my friend Forbes. [An appreciation of his papers on the Physophoridae and Sagitta, speaking highly both of his observations and philosophic power, in the report of the proceedings in Section D.]

In the same number is a rich song from the same fertile and versatile pen, which was sung at one of our Red Lion meetings.  That is why I want you to look at it, not that you will understand it, because it is full of allusions to occurrences known only in the scientific circles.  At Ipswich we had a grand Red Lion meeting; about forty members were present, and among them some of the most distinguished members of the Association.  Some foreigners were invited (the Prince of Casino, Buonaparte’s nephew, among others), and were not a little astonished to see the grave professors, whose English solemnity and gravity they had doubtless commented on elsewhere, giving themselves up to all sorts of fun.  Among the Red Lions we have a custom (instead of cheering) of waving and wagging one coat-tail (one Lion’s tail) when we applaud.  This seemed to strike the Prince’s fancy amazingly, and when he got up to return thanks for his health being drunk, he told us that as he was rather out of practice in speaking English, he would return thanks in our fashion, and therewith he gave three mighty roars and wags, to the no small amusement of every one.  He is singularly like the portraits of his uncle, and seems a very jolly, good-humoured old fellow.  I believe, however, he is a bit of a rip.  It was remarkable how proud the Quakers were of being noticed by him.

To W. Macleay, of Sydney.

41 North Bank, Regent’s Park, November 9, 1851.

My dear Sir,