s wanderings--only a few
scattered references to them are possible. It is pleasant to read that
when Mr Elwes visited Sikkim twenty-two years after Hooker, he found that
the Lepchas almost worshipped him, and he was remembered as a learned
Hakim, an incarnation of wisdom and strength.

The most exciting adventure of Hooker and his fellow-traveller was their
imprisonment in Sikkim, where their lives were clearly in danger, and
they were only released when "troops were hurried up to Darjiling" and
"an ultimatum dispatched to the Rajah." {122b}

For the rest of his botanical journeyings he had the companionship of
Thomson, who had been his fellow-student, and, like himself, was the son
of a Glasgow professor. A letter to his father (undated) gives an idea
of the wonderful success of his Indian travels: "It is easy to talk of a
_Flora Indica_, and Thomson and I do talk of it, to imbecility! But
suppose that we even adopted the size, quality of paper, brevity of
description, etc., which characterise De Candolle's _Prodromus_, and we
should, even under these conditions, fill twelve such volumes at least."

The usual shabbiness {123} of governments towards science is well
illustrated (p. 344) in the case of Hooker:--"His total expenditure was
2200 pounds; the official allowances were 1200 pounds: the remainder was
contributed from his own and his father's purse."

In 1855 Joseph began his official life at Kew on being appointed
assistant to his father. And ten years later, on Sir William's death, he
succeeded as a matter of course to the Directorship.

Shortly before this, _i.e._ in 1854, he was the recipient of an honour
greatly coveted by men of science, namely the award of the Royal Medal.
He is characteristically pleased for the sake of the science of Botany
rather than for himself, and refers to the neglect that botany has
generally experienced at the hands of the Society in comparison with
zoological subjects. His own success characteristically reminds him of
what he considered a slight to his father, viz., that he had not received
the Copley Medal of the Royal Society. This, the highest honour which
men of science can aspire to, is open not merely to Britons but to all
the world, and I should doubt whether Sir William had ever been high in
the list of possible recipients.

We are now approaching the great change wrought in the scientific outlook
of the world by the _Origin of Species_. In November 1856, afte