And if a man can afford the time to stay up
after his degree, he is encouraged and helped to undertake research. If
practical teaching is the foundation, the protoplasm as it were, of
scientific education, I am sure that original work is its soul or spirit.

Whether, like my father in South America, we have the genius to solve big
problems in geology and "can hardly sleep at night for thinking of them,"
or whether, as with us smaller people, the task is some elusive little
point which we triumphantly track to its cause, there is an extraordinary
delight in such work. Professor Seward arranged an admirable imitation
of original research in his advanced class on the anatomy of plants at
Cambridge. He gave out specimens which the students had never seen;
these had to be investigated, and they had to give _viva voce_ accounts
of their discoveries to the rest of the class. I believe this to be a
method worth imitating, and I may say as an encouragement to women
teachers that it was a Newnham student who was especially distinguished
in this mutual instruction class.

When I left Cambridge and became a medical student in London, I had the
luck to work in the laboratory of Dr. Klein, who was then head of the
Brown Institute at Nine Elms. He was fresh from Vienna, with all the
continental traditions in favour of original research. Even in the
ordinary laboratory work I remember how he tried to throw the romance of
practicality over my task. He rushed in one day with a large bread-knife
stained with blood in the most sinister manner, saying that a murder had
occurred in South Lambeth, and it was for me to determine whether or no
the red fluid on the blade was blood!

Later on he set me to work investigating inflammation, and I can still
remember his praise of the harmless little paper I wrote. To my secret
satisfaction he blamed me for the severity of my remarks on a German
Professor who had written on the subject. He told me to strike out my
criticism, though he allowed it to be just. I sighed as an author, but
obeyed as a pupil,--to misquote the words of Gibbon.

Education is often spoken of, and is praised or blamed, as a method of
imparting information to the young. It is obvious that it is far more
than this. It includes the stimulation of tastes, tendencies, or
instincts which are inherent but dormant in the pupil. In my case the
opportunity, so wisely and kindly given by Dr. Klein, of seeing science
in the