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Report of the Weeling

HELD FOR THE

PRESENTATION TO PROFESSOR BONNEY,

IDESEo5 IEIURID 3, TOIRSSy IBoCaShp | lobes

OF HIS PORTRAIT, PRESENTED BY FORMER PUPILS.

[As many subscribers were unavoidably prevented from attending the
meeting, it was felt that they would be glad to have some record of
the proceedings, and that also it would be of interest to others.
Unfortunately, no verbatim report of most of the speeches could
be obtained, but the account here given reproduces the main points—
much of tt in the exact words, It has been thought best to give
the report fully where tt was possible, although the proportions
thus are not always maintained. |

Tue portrait of Professor Bonney, which has been painted at the
request of former Geological students in the University of
Cambridge, and in University College, London, was presented to
him, on their behalf, by Professor Sollas, D.Se., LL.D., F.RS.,
F.G.S., who came from Dublin for the purpose. ‘The painting
is by Mr. Trevor Haddon (Slade Scholar and Medallist and Fellow
of the Herkomer School), a three-quarter length figure, and repre-
sents the Professor seated in his Doctor of Science robes.

The ceremony for the Presentation took place on Monday,
December 16th, 1895, at University College, in the Botanical
Theatre, which had been kindly lent by the Council for the
occasion. Many of the old students had had the pleasure of
arranging flowers, especially in front of the portrait, as it stood on
the platform with palms beside it. The theatre was well filled.
In addition to those taking part in the ceremony and a large
number of the subscribers and former students, there were present
many friends and distinguished guests. Among these were
Sir J. Eric Erichsen, President of University College, Dr. Henry

4,

Woodward, President of the Geological Society, and Mrs. Wood-
ward, Dr. and Mrs. Blanford, Dr. Collie, Professor Carey Foster,
Professor Foxwell, Dr. Gregory, Dr. H. Hicks, Professor Hill,
Dr. G. J. Hinde, Mr. Hudleston, Professor Judd, Professor Ker,
Lieut.-General MacMahon, Rev. J. Marshall, Professor
Ramsay, Rev. Dr. Robbins, Professor T. Roger Smith, Professor
and Mrs. Weldon. Many unfortunately were obliged to leave
as soon as the meeting closed, and the list of those who were present
is thus incomplete.

Not a few telegrams of congratulations and letters had been
received from those who were unable to be present.

The Chairman, Mr. J. J. H. Teall, F.R.S., took his place at the
table on the floor of the theatre, having on his right Professor
Bonney and the President of University College, and on his left
Professor Sollas.

Mr. Teall said :—

I have been selected as Chairman, because I happen to be
Professor Bonney’s senior pupil. Twenty-six years ago it was my
good fortune to enter St. John’s College, Cambridge, on Professor
Bonney’s side. I had no definite object in going to Cambridge
beyond that of taking my degree, but, in consequence of the
interest in Geology, which Professor Bonney’s lectures aroused, I
soon found myself working for the Natural Science Tripos. During
my residence at Cambridge I was indebted to Professor Bonney not
only for advice in connection with the ordinary affairs of life, but
also for almost the whole of my Geological education. It is therefore
with the greatest pleasure that I find myself in a prominent position
on the present occasion. The proposal that his old students should
present Professor Bonney with his portrait asa mark of their grati-
tude, esteem, and affection, originated with Mr. Marr, who also has
been largely instrumental in carrying out his own suggestion. I
will therefore first call on Mr. Marr to give an account of the cordial
manner in which the proposal has been taken up by Cambridge
men.

Mr. Marr said :—

Although, as the Chairman has stated, I may have been actually
the first to suggest the gift of the portrait, yet I feel I cannot claim

5

much merit from the fact; for if I had not suggested it, someone
else would certainly have done so. The idea, so to speak, was in
the air. As to the part which I have taken in the active work, I
was about to call it a labour of love, but that expression would be
untrue, for there was no labour in it. As soon as the letters were
written, the answers came in quickly and readily, and the project
was received with enthusiasm by the old Cambridge pupils. There
were also others not strictly pupils who claimed the coveted
honour of being considered such, on account of informal instruction
received in the study or the field. Some old pupils whose names
do not appear on the list would also have desired to be there, but
there were difficulties in obtaining names and addresses of all, as no
record of attendance at Dr. Bonney’s Cambridge lectures was
available to be consulted. It would take too long to read all the
letters received from former Cambridge students, and rather than
read extracts I will give a general idea of what was in their
minds when they wrote. They all looked upon Dr. Bonney as in

every way a ‘ guide, philosopher and friend ; ”

as one who, though
he was just before he was generous, yet allowed generosity to walk
so closely on the heels of justice, that they seemed to go side by
side. A sentence from one letter I feel bound to read, as the writer,
Dr. R. D. Roberts, specially sent a message to Dr. Bonney. He
wrote—* I was one of his (Dr. Bonney’s) very early pupils, but my
sense of indebtedness to him for the many kindnesses of those days
is not weakened by the twenty-three or twenty-four years that have
passed since then.”

Here my remarks might be brought to a close, but I propose to
trespass on Professor Sollas’ ground, as what I am about to say,
he could not. On Professor Bonney’s shoulders fell practically the
whole of the Geological teaching at Cambridge after the death of
Professor Sedgwick. That he completely discharged the difficult
duty which thus came to him is abundantly shown by the fact that
amongst his very early pupils were two men like Mr. Teall and
Professor Sollas.

I thank Professor Bonuey for all that he did for me personally,
and I feel that I may speak for all the pupils equally with myself
when I state that any successes which may come to us will give us

6

double pleasure from the knowledge that they will also please our
revered teacher and master.

The Chairman next called upon Miss C. A. Raisin to speak on
behalf of all the former students of University College who had
joined the movement.

Miss Raisin said :—

I wish that someone who could better fulfil this duty might
have undertaken it, but as I have had the great pleasure and the
great privilege of writing to my fellow-students, it seemed right
that I should do my best to give you some account of the answers
which were sent by the University College members. To do this,
I have to repeat what you have already heard from the Cambridge
representative. The proposal was received with strongest approval
and warmest sympathy. The letters were full of expressions that
it had the “ heartiest wishes ” of the writer, that it was a “ most
excellent project,” that the writer would be ‘“‘ most unhappy to be
left out of any scheme for doing honour to” our Professor. Again
and again, students write to express their feeling that this will be
“a very slight acknowledgment of the many pleasant hours spent
in the laboratory and on the excursions,” that they “ often look
back to those pleasant times.” Frequently, they suggest some of
the reasons for the pleasure which they received—that the Professor
was ‘so especially kind and generous in giving extra help.” “ His
courtesy and kindness to his classes must have led many to wish
that they could show their gratitude and affection in some tangible
way.” “I amsure that any token from his pupils would be an
inadequate return for all his kindness—the great interest always
shown in his students deserves some tangible mark ot appreciation
on their part . . . noone in England in similar position merits
an expression of goodwill from his students more.’’ ‘“‘ One can
never repay the kindness and help received ; but this may serve as
a token of our appreciation of the help, and of his readiness to give
such help, and of the thorough enjoyment of the work done.” The
words speak not’ only of the pleasure but of the profit. One writes,
“‘T feel to have known him to have been a great privilege. I
think one leaves with a great deal more than Geology.” Others,
of the ‘‘assistance and advice, both while attending the classes and

7

since.” All these expressions are used spontaneously, in letters
written in answer to the first announcement, which was so worded
that no reply was necessary.

One of our members who has done good work in mapping among
the difficult rocks of Scotland, and is now entering upon what is
perhaps a similarly difficult task—Mr. Greenly—wishes me to
express how much he regrets that he cannot come up to London for
this meeting. He writes of how “ Professor Bonney has been kind
to me (as to others) and has done much to stimulate interest in
Geology.” “He has been uniformly kind to me, and particularly
so In connection with my present undertaking, having helped me
with slides and sympathy and in every way.”

Perhaps I may be allowed to add one further expression of
gratitude somewhat fitting in this place, in my old College, which
always has been so ready to open its classes to women when
there was a real demand. Among the students of University
College for whom I have the honour to speak, women students are
included, and we may add our special thanks for the benefit which
the work in this class has brought to us. It has given to us, as to
all, greater interest in Natural Science; there has been always
available help in difficulties, continual suggestion of further work,

equal facilities for all earnest students.
| Speaking as I do on behalf of all the students of University
College who have joined in this presentation, I may then say that
it represents a real and united feeling. No movement could have
been more completely harmonious and cordial throughout. It ex-
presses a feeling which will form a link of union between those who
have been fellow-students; many to our regret cannot be with us
to-day, but they have sent their sympathy, some even from distant
lands—from India, from the wilds of Australia, from Amertea.
We students of University College rejoice also that in this movement
we have been joined with those who are senior students, including
so many distinguished geologists, some of whom have come at the
expense of time and trouble and by long journeys to do honour to
the occasion—our fellow-students (if here we may so claim to be), .
although separated in time and place. It is of this real feeling
among us, that the portrait, which will soon be shown, is a token.

8

It is a token also of another memento of our gratitude for the
teaching and help received. This we hope will, this we know must
lead to further work—in all of us to continued study of Nature
in which our interest has been aroused or increased ; in some who
are carrying on research in other sciences to the use there of the
principles which they have learned in this; while some of us may
have the high privilege of continuing our work in Geology and
following in that the method which always has been put before
us, to search Nature herself for facts and draw our inferences from
them. By such work in all directions we acknowledge and spread
the influence which we are here met to celebrate, and of this recog-
nition, less tangible but not less real than the portrait before us, it
shall be, we trust, a memorial and a promise.

The Chairman then asked Mr. Crowley, as one of the recent
students of University College, to say a few words.

Mr. Crowley said :-—

It gives me very much pleasure to testify on this occasion to
the great enjoyment and profit that has been gained by Professor
Bonney’s students in the lectures and on the excursions. It is very
true that what we have learned from him embraces far more than
Geology. If I may be allowed for a moment to point this by
personal experience, I would like to say that in my own profession,
the medical profession, I have again and again found the application
of the principles we have been taught. The true methods of scientific
research illustrated in the rocks have been of use in every branch of
my medical studies. I am sure that Professor Bonney’s students,
whatever the direction of their work, will never forget the debt
which they owe to him.

Professor Sollas was then called upon to make the presentation.

Professor Sollas said :—

I need scarcely say how highly I value the privilege of being
permitted to share in expressing the feelings of this assembly. ‘The
task would be far easier had we merely to thank Professor Bonney
for imparted knowledge, but our debt to him is much greater than
that. His influence has penetrated deeper into our mental being,
moulding our habits of thought and guiding character in its growth.

It is comparatively easy—dangerously easy I would say—to

9

render oneself liked, to earn the half-contemptuously endearing
titlek—“a good fellow; ”’ and if a man should give his mind to it,
it might not prove hard, say by a course of consistent sternness, to
make himself feared; but what is difficult, and consequently an
attainment very rare, is so to enlist the sympathies of pupils as to
awaken an affection tempered with respect—a respect softened with
affection. ‘To those who do this for us no tribute of gratitude can
be too great; they satisfy a desire deeply implanted in our being,
of having someone to whom we can look up, whose blame we fear,
whose approval is labour’s best reward.

Mr. Teall has said that Professor Bonney made of him a geologist ;
and as I reflect on this it seems to me that scarcely any living
teacher has made so many geologists as Professor Bonney: at
Cambridge he used to manufacture on an average about one
a year; sometimes, indeed, it was more, for I remember Jukes-
Browne went out in the same year that I did: and as some
of us have taken to producing geologists ourselves, the rate of
increase of Professor Bonney’s students and their descendants
becomes a problem like the old question of the peopling of the world
by Adam and Eve. It is not surprising then to find Professor
Bonney’s students in all quarters of the habitable—and not
everywhere habitable—globe. As I left Dublin I encountered
one—La Touche—who had just returned from unravelling the
difficult structure of Scinde. Professor Bonney’s students are not
only to be found in different regions of this terrestrial sphere, but in
various provinces of thought: some who walked with him for a
while in Geology, studying the wholesome rocks, have deviated into
Zoology, and devote themselves to the lower animals and the ways,
not always wholesome, of mankind; but these still remember,
perhaps sadly, their days of grace, and are proud to recall that they
too were once students of Professor Bonney’s. I cite as an example
Professor Haddon, and would add as an instance of a strayed
botanist, Professor Hartog, were he not a man too various to be so
epitomised: he too left Cambridge in the samme year with me, and
that perhaps is the reason he did not become a geologist, for it
would be beyond nature to make three geologists in one year.

And while talking of the making of geologists, it is fitting to

10

mention that in the case of some of us Professor Bonney had to
commence by unmaking; he had not only to implant truth, but to
cast out error; for in the early days of my recollection Geology was
troubled with many monsters, ‘‘ jabberwocks, snarks and other
boojums,” who had cast an unholy influence over us. There was
for one the gneiss and granite monster—it was thought that great
eneissose regions were produced by a gentle simmering of primitive
mud, and that if overdone this was lable to pass into genuine granite ;
so culinary were the operations of Nature represented to be that it
was sometimes difficult to look upon a piece of granite without
perceiving a faint flavour of onions. Great were the battles with
this monster, now happily overthrown, bearing many marks of
Professor Bonney’s weapons. Another was excavation by glaciers,
or as one of my friends calls them, “ glaziers,” thus innocently ex-
pressing a once prevalent idea that these agents have a kind of
resemblance to intelligent mechanics, who armed with sharp points
and a knife can cut through the hardest substances or fill up a hole
with plastic material. The lakes of Switzerland, North America
and tropical Africa showed what they could accomplish, when put
to it. I think this, too, is an extinct “ jabberwock.”

While thus touching on the destructive powers of our old and
revered teacher, let me add that he has not only taught us the arts
of peace, but has trained us in the exercise of arms, showing us by
his example how both to discover new truths and to manfully
defend all that seems true to us. We may not hope to emulate
him in sword play, but we may at least imitate him in keeping a
steadfast face to the foe.

Professor Bonney’s work, however, has been much more con-
structive than destructive; he has been a maker of geology as
well as of geologists. He has shown us the foundation stones of
the earth’s crust, and is now helping us to unravel the mysteries ©
of the tangled glacial deposits; he has given us a new insight into
the meaning of the British Trias, and since his first lectures on
petrology, which Mr. Teall and I attended some twenty-three years
ago, has been constantly adding to our knowledge of igneous rocks.
It is strange to reflect on how little was known in England of this
subject, when Professor Bonney first commenced his lectures. It

11

is hard to believe, and yet it is a fact, that when Professor Bonney
read his paper on the origin of serpentine, geologists took this rock
to be some kind of animal remains, and his paper, as I am told, was
referred to a paleontologist, before the Geological Society could
venture to print it in their Journal.

There is one pleasure, I must confess, that Professor Bonney’s
male students have not enjoyed, that of co-operating with him in
some of his work: that is an honour which has been reserved for
woman, who—as I think it is Browning says—can “‘ always better
man’s best.”’ In our case—the so-called stronger sex—it has always
been labour rather for us than with us, and I have often wondered,
as we must all have done, how amidst so many occupations Professor
Bonney could find time to answer questions. Yet pigeon-holed
among my correspondence are letters of his enough to fill a volume.

And now unwillingly I must conclude, leaving my story half
untold, for the kindest thoughts may never be expressed, so that I
cannot refrain from envy of the artist, who, untrammelled, is able
by his art to depict in life-like manner our teacher as he appears to
us; but the wise counsellor, the steadfast mentor, and the kind
friend—who can portray us these ?

To Professor Bonney :—

Sir, on behalf of your former pupils and students in Cambridge
and University College, London, whose names are engrossed in
this address, I beg your acceptance of this portrait of yourself.

Professor Bonuey said :—

My good friends and old pupils: There are times when it is
difficult to find words to express what we feel. That is my position
now—lI cannot adequately thank you for this touching mark of
your affection or my friends who have spoken for the kindness of
their words. But in dwelling so much on the lights, they have
forgotten the shadows. ‘There is much colour in that picture, I
fear there was still more in their eulogies. I am, for my part, too
conscious of the imperfections of all my work, both as a teacher and
as a worker in Geology. But for the one and for the other I have
some excuse to plead—it has never been my good fortune to be able
to devote myself wholly to science. Always there have been other
duties which have had claims upon me—not the least being that of

12

earning a sufficient income—for science has been to me com-
paratively unremunerative. Once, in 1885, when an endowment
fell in for my chair here and I resigned my post at the British
Association, I did hope that I could devote myself mainly to science :
but the agricultural depression had begun, and in two or three years
I found myself, as now, obliged to keep on working for an income.
That, however, is not all—my teaching has always been defective,
partly from my own imperfections, partly from want of fitting ap-
pliances. At Cambridge everything had to be extemporized. In
the early days of modern Geology this did not matter much. Now
it is a most serious impediment. I believe I occupy a unique
position—that I am the only Professor of Geology in the United
Kingdom who has no qualified assistant, no funds whatever allotted
to him for the necessary expenses of instruction and of practical
work. That this state of things exists is not my fault. Standing
where I do, I can say no more than ask you to remember, when my
career in this college ends in failure, as now seems to me almost
certain, that Iam not alone to blame. I have been set to make
bricks without straw.

But let me turn to my work apart from teaching, to which you
have referred in over eulogistic terms. It may interest some of you
to know how I was attracted to those subjects in which such repu-
tation as I possess has been made. In adesultory way I had worked
at Geology from my school-days, but in 1869 I began, as an experi-
ment, lectures on Geology at St. John’s College, Cambridge. I had
not gone far before I found that the part of the subject which we now
eall petrology, was in hopeless confusion. I had to tell my students
something, and so I tried to teach myself. In order to ascertain
facts I began to work tentatively at the microscopic structure of
rocks—a study then quite in its infancy. But my earlier papers
were on Physical Geology and especially on the action of ice. My
method in preparing these was to go and see for myself. At first
1 had intended to study only the petrology of the igneous rocks, and
I made a journey at least once every year to examine into their
field relations and to collect specimens for microscopic examination.
But I had got interested in Charnwood Forest on one side and in
the Lizard on the other, and the horizon widened. My first paper

13

containing microscopic results was published in 1877, a study of
the lherzolite of the Pyrenees, which had been undertaken to
complete the history of the serpentine of the Lizard. I will not
weary you with a list of papers, but merely say that presently I was
forced into the study of the metamorphic rocks and began that
systematically about 1881. I had already done something in
Anglesea and something in Scotland and had found that light must
be sought in other regions to explain the perplexities of these. So
I began with the Alps and ever since then I have been trying to
decipher the history of the crystalline schists and gneisses in this
chain and in other lands. Each journey has had a definite purpose,
has been usually an attempt to solve a special problem. Perhaps
I have been chasing an zguzs fatwus—that, time must show. I am
sometimes inclined to regret that I ever took up the question, for
it has converted my holiday resort into a place of labour, and has
been a fruitful source of controversies. But it is no use regretting.
What I have always sought to do is to gather facts and to submit
them to inductive reasoning. Early in my career, I found that I
must not trust the statements even of men of note, unless I knew
well their personal equation. I would that I had discovered this
earlier ; most of my mistakes have come from putting faith in those
who passed for princes of Geology.

So now, addressing many of you for the last time, I say: Go and
see things for yourselves. Do not put too much trust in what you
read, unless you know the author. Books have their value, but
that of travel is greater still. Gather facts and reason inductively
on them. Do not run after the first captivating notion. Distrust
brilliancy in an hypothesis almost as much as you would brilliancy
in a complexion when seen in Regent Street.

Another piece of advice. Although I have inked a good deal
of paper in my time, I would say do not be too hasty in writing.
Distrust sonorous phrases which only cloak inaccuracy of thought.
Plod on in the hard, solid and dull line of fact-collecting and
inductive reasdning, and prefer doing a little work that will last to
a great deal that will break like a catherine-wheel into sudden
splendour and then vanish into darkness. Iam not sure that in the -
present age this is the easiest way to success. It is pretty sure to

14

land you in controversies, because you will often have to sweep aside
popular mistakes, and show that golden idols have feet of clay. I
have had my share of controversy. I have hit hard and straight,
but I hope always above the belt. I am not ashamed to have done
it, for I believe that inaccurate observations and unsound inductions
are a curse, not a boon to science. ‘They cumber the ground ; and
error, like all bad things, manifests an astonishing vitality. Truth,
it seems to me, is a sacred thing, whether in science, in politics, or
in religion, worth fighting for, worth self-denial, worth suffering
for, if need be.

But I will weary you no longer. It remains only to thank you
all, those especially who have been active in organising this presenta-
tion from the beginning to this day. I have been a secretary myself
and know how much time and trouble such work costs. But I thank
you all for this unexpected token of your affection. It was ex-
ceptionally welcome, for it came at a time when I had lost heart in
my work, and I was sad from other causes. This portrait will be a
perpetual remembrance of to-day and of the proudest hour of my life.
It will encourage me to do my best for the time that remains.
This cannot be long. I have begun within the last year or two to
feel “non sum qualis eram.”’ In a very few years indeed I must
cease from teaching; in a very few more, if not even then, from all
scientific work. But though the shadows are lengthening, it cheers
me to think that those who come after me will see that I was not
wholly a failure, and so long as memory lasts I shall never forget
your kindness, never the affection which you have shown me to-day.

Mr. Watts said :—

I regard it as a great privilege to be allowed to propose a vote of
very hearty thanks to the artist to whom we owe the making of
this portrait, and in whom I am glad to recognize the brother of
my old friend Professor Haddon. That the portrait is a success all
here will be able to testify, with the picture and the model before
them. Bvt it is by no means always that a portrait of a scientific
man is successful, and on the walls of the Royal Academy we are
all familiar with the misshapen microscopes, the rotund retorts, the
skulls and stuffed bird-skins, which are made to do duty as the
totems of scientific men. Mr. Haddon has boldly and, as I venture

15

to think, very wisely brushed aside all such symbolism and been
content to give usa picture of the man himself, and to catch that
expression which those who know him well treasure up as that under
which we like to remember Professor Bonney. But this cannot have
been an easy task, for as one of his most distinguished students
said to me—“'I'he extraordinary feature of Professor Bonney is his
versatility. At one moment your teacher, at another a simple
enquirer, again a cordial friend, and then, and perhaps quite
suddenly, your college tutor, and all the while a right down good
fellow.”? Mr. Trevor Haddon has clearly seen and hinted at all
these expressions, but he has kept the last one most conspicuously
to the front. I would even go further. Those who have heard
Professor Bonney chastise his opponents, some of whom are proud to
say they have been his old students, will recognize in his portrait
a reserve of strength which bids those who would enter into con-
troversy with him to make their ground very sure before they
denounce his theories or dispute his facts.

We thank the painter most cordially for handing down to posterity
so worthy a presentment of the tutor we feared, the master we
reverence, and the friend we love and respect.

Dr. S. Rideal said :—

Although I have to plead guilty to having wandered out of the
straight path of Geology into a chemical bye-way, I am pleased to
be present here to-day, and to testify to my appreciation of the
work which Professor Bonney has done at University College and
elsewhere. It is now some ten years ago that I first became
acquainted with the work of Mr. Haddon, who was then good
enough to make some diagrams of the geyser cones in the Yellow-
stone Park for me, so that I have since associated Mr. Haddon
with Geology. Iam now pleased to find Mr. Haddon’s skill as an
artist devoted to the painting of Professor Bonney, whom we all
value as our teacher and friend.

Mr. Trevor Haddon said :—

I must return my most grateful thanks for the cordial reception
you have given to my humble efforts. We artists usually prefer to
keep in the background on these occasions. Referring to back-
grounds reminds me of what Mr. Watts has just said about the

16

portraits of scientific men in the Academy and elsewhere. I at first
thought everyone concerned would prefer a background containing
a handsome case of specimens, but on referring the matter to
Professor Bonney, he very promptly swept away the idea of such a
thing. On this occasion, at any rate, his sympathy did not accom-
pany specimens. Allow me to add that it has given me great
pleasure to be associated in this work, and to thank all concerned
for their kindness to me.

The Rev. E. Hill said :—

Many are truly pupils of Professor Bonney who never listened
to a lecture from him, nor profited by his tutorial care. Among
such, I may count myself. The action of the authorities in lending
this theatre to a company so largely attended from outside the
college seems to me in harmony with this. I beg leave to propose
a vote of thanks to them.

Mr. Strahan said :—

It gives me great pleasure to be present at this meeting. The
attendance shows that no ordinary room would have sufficed for a
gathering of all those who wished to acknowledge their gratitude to
Professor Bonney. I myself have a vivid recollection of the little
lecture room in the second court at St. John’s, where I learned so
much and met with so much kindness. I have much pleasure in
seconding the vote of thanks to the Council of University College.

The vote of thanks was then put to the meeting and carried
unanimously.