5 DECEMBER 1885, Page 14



[Hence the sort of amused contempt which "is felt by the physicist for the professional politicians, and- for the crowds who throw up their caps in his wake," &e. Letter of "F.13.0.13.," December 2nd, 1885.] I'm an F.R.C.S., please to notice,—

Initials on view ;— That's enough for my mightiness ; so 'tis Sufficient for you.

That statesmen are idiots and liars All sane men agree, And turn their wise backs on the briars For roses like me.

The Noble, the Subtle, the Mode,st, Is Science alone ; Though it's not (of all odd things the oddest) Yet -perfectly known.

What's Truth ? 'tis the portion of Science : What's Politics ? Sham!

And to give contradiction defiance, See the Times : here I am.

They give us big type but don't name us : Big type for the pen Is the broad road for Science's famous Anonymous men.

The whole world now eagerly guesses (Elections put by) Who, out of all F.R.C.S.'s, The dickens am I!

On England's affairs to be busy- Suits some, I suppose ; But at dialecticians the physi- Cist turns up his nose.

He smiles at diversion so easy As Ministers take ; And donkeys who throw up their greasy Old caps in their wake.

He sits sniffing Truth in his private Ineffable den ; And some day, perhaps, he will drive it Home into dull men, When Learning's inferior branches Are all on the shelf, And Science can squat on her haunches, And worship herself.

Politicians know nothing of Duty, Whate'er their mook, creed ; Yet even there Science, the beauty, Can give you a lead.

If any one felt in the vapours About Ins and Outs, There's Tyndall who wrote to the papers,