being of the human race.[1] To mark their sense of the occasion, the French Government had offered decorations of the Legion of Honour to eminent scientific representatives of the nations who had sent delegates to the meeting. They were offered to the following British guests: Professor Meldola, Sir Wm. Perkin, Sir Wm. Ramsay, and Mr. W. F. Reid. But under the regulations of our Foreign Office—those in force at the time were signed by Lord Salisbury and dated August, 1885—no foreign Order might be accepted by a British subject except for naval, military, or diplomatic services, or for rendering 'valuable service to the Sovereign bestowing the Order outside her Majesty's dominions'. An intelligent reading of this last clause would have admitted that the isolation for the first time of a new constituent of the atmosphere was a most valuable service, in that it thrilled the imagination and inspired the intellect of France, and indeed of the whole civilized world. And if time were available it would be easy to show that all four of the British guests had brought priceless gifts—intellectual pearls to be trampled under foot by the British Foreign Office. Would not a patriotic Government have been glad to know, and glad that the world should know, that its citizens were honoured in a foreign land for their discoveries; would they not have altered their regulations if the words were such as to suggest to dull minds a stupid interpretation? How dull and how stupid can only be realized when we think of the acts that are acclaimed by our Foreign Office as 'valuable service'. A chairman or managing director of a company that employed an engine-driver and used its rolling-stock to carry so many kilogrammes of foreign monarch or foreign President would be deemed to have
