CHAPTER III

AS DIRECTOR OF THE NATURAL HISTORY MUSEUM

[1884-1898]

On the resignation in 1884 by Sir Richard Owen of the post of Superintendent of the Natural History Departments of the British Museum, which four years previously had been transferred to the magnificent new building in the Cromwell Road, officially known as the British Museum (Natural History), but more commonly designated the Natural History Museum, it was felt by all competent to form an adequate opinion on the subject that Professor Flower was the one man specially and peculiarly fitted for the post. And accordingly, in the course of the year in question, he was duly appointed to that most important and influential position, which may be regarded as conferring upon its occupant the status of the leading official zoologist in the British Empire. It was in this position that Flower became most widely known to the general public; and here that he received the honours, firstly of C.B., and later on K.C.B., conferred upon him by his Sovereign.

At the date when Sir William (then Professor) assumed the reins of office, the position of Director of the Natural History Museum was of a somewhat anomalous and peculiar nature. At that time (as now) the administration of the museum was divided into four sections, or departments, namely Zoology, Geology (or rather Palæontology), Botany and Mineralogy, each of which was presided over by a “Keeper,” who had practically unlimited control, both as regards finance and general arrangement, of his own section. Consequently, as regards these four departments, the Director had very little control over the museum he was nominally supposed to govern; and his functions were to a great extent limited to regulating the “foreign policy” of the institution under his charge, that is to say, its relations to the parent establishment at Bloomsbury, to the Treasury, and to the world at large. In fact, as Sir William once remarked to the present writer, the Director at that time had to find a sphere of work for himself.

Fortunately, such a sphere of work lay ready to hand, and Flower immediately entered upon it with characteristic energy and enthusiasm.

So long ago as the year 1859, Sir Richard Owen, in one of his reports to the Trustees of the Museum, recommended that the new building, in addition to affording ample space for the general series of natural specimens exhibited to the public, should likewise include a hall, or other suitable apartment, for the display of a series of specimens calculated to convey an elementary idea of the general principles of systematic natural history and biological classification to the large proportion of the ordinary public visitor not conversant with that subject. In other words, the feature of the proposed section would be the exhibition of a series of specimens selected to show the more typical characters of the principal groups of organised (and, it was at the time added, crystallised) forms. This, it was urged, would constitute an epitome of natural history, and would convey to the eye, in the easiest and most ready manner, an elementary knowledge of the sciences in question.

In every modification which the plans of the new building underwent, a hall for the purpose indicated in the above passages formed, as Sir William has himself remarked, a prominent feature; being in the later stages of the development of the building called, for want of a better name, the “Index Museum.”

The increasing infirmities of age, coupled with the short time during which he presided over the Natural History collections in their new home, combined, however, to prevent Owen from making any real progress with the so-called Index Museum; and although he furnished the idea of the scheme and planned the general installation of the hall, the selection and installation of its contents were left to his successor. And, with the vast experience gained by Sir William during his tenure of office in the Royal College of Surgeons, they could not possibly have been left to abler hands.

Here it is necessary to explain that, whether by design or by accident, history sayeth not, the Index Museum and the Central Hall generally were not included in any one of the four great administrative departments of the Museum, so that they consequently came under the immediate and exclusive control of the Director himself.

Nor was Flower long in setting to work at the task which thus lay awaiting his master-hand; and the Index Museum, as fast as the exigencies of finance and the difficulties of procuring suitable specimens permitted, gradually assumed the shape and character familiar to all visitors of the building, not that in these respects it exactly followed the lines suggested by Owen. In place of being, as was originally proposed, a sort of epitome or index of the main collections in the galleries, it developed rather into something “more like the general introduction preceding the systematic portion of treatises on any branch of natural history.”

Whether, in view of this departure from the original conception, Sir William, if starting _de novo_, would have grouped all these separate collections in a single apartment, or whether he would have split them up and placed them at the commencement of the various series in the exhibition galleries to which they respectively pertain, may be a moot point. But, at anyrate, no detriment to his work would ensue if such a splitting-up should be thought desirable in the future. And considerable advantages would undoubtedly result if the series displaying the general morphology and anatomy of the mammals were placed at the entrance of the mammalian gallery, and so on with the other series at present exhibited in the Index Museum.

Be this as it may, the series of specimens and preparations arranged in the Index Museum under the immediate superintendence of Flower is probably unrivalled in its way, and displays in a marked manner that attention to detail and that eye to artistic effect which were among his special attributes. In the “bay” devoted to mammals, special attention was given to the display of specimens illustrating the various forms assumed by the teeth in the different orders and families, and their mode of succession and replacement;—subjects in which Flower always displayed special interest, and in regard to which he made some important discoveries. Here, too, were exhibited during the latter half of his tenure of office the skeletons and half-models of a man and a horse, placed in juxtaposition, in order to display the special adaptations and modifications for, on the one hand, the upright posture and great brain-capacity, and, on the other, for the high degree of speed and endurance essential to an otherwise defenceless quadruped living, in a wild state, on open plains. In this exhibit, which forms the frontispiece to his well-known and deservedly popular little work on _The Horse_, Sir William always took an especial pride; and it was one of the first objects to which he directed the attention of the many illustrious and distinguished visitors who sought his guidance in viewing the collections under his charge. Another specimen in the same “bay” of which he was especially proud is the skeleton of a young chimpanzee, dissected by Dr. Tyson, and described by that anatomist in a work published in 1699, under the title of the _Anatomie of a Pigmie_, being the earliest scientific description of any man-like ape.

As regards the vertebrate “bays,” Sir William himself (always of course with the aid of trained assistants) took an active part in the selection and arrangement of the specimens. In the case of the invertebrate groups, on the other hand, the task was left more to his subordinates; while as regards the botanical section such relegation was, of necessity, practically complete. Although it has been previously referred to elsewhere, it may be mentioned that it was during the work on the Index Museum the discovery of the absence in certain groups of birds of the fifth cubital quill-feather was made; a fact now familiar to naturalists under the title of diastaxy, or aquintocubitalism.

A special feature of the vertebrate section of the Index Museum was the attention devoted to the mounting of the skins of the mammals exhibited. In an address delivered to the British Association in 1889, Flower referred to “the sadly neglected art of taxidermy, which continues to fill the cases of most of our museums with wretched and repulsive caricatures of mammals and birds, out of all natural proportions, shrunken here and bloated there, and in attitudes absolutely impossible for the creature to have assumed while alive.” And he was determined that the specimens of this nature in the section of the museum under his own immediate superintendence should be the best of their kind, and should serve as models for the renovation of these in the zoological galleries which he had determined to undertake so soon as the opportunity was afforded.

Neither was he less particular in regard to labels describing the exhibits. In the address already referred to, he had written that “above all, the purpose for which each specimen is exhibited, and the main lesson to be derived from it, must be distinctly indicated by the labels affixed, both as headings of the various divisions of the series and to the individual specimens. A well-arranged educational museum has been defined as a collection of instructive labels, illustrated by well-selected specimens.” Most, if not all, of the descriptive labels in the vertebrate series of the Index Museum were written by the hand of the Director himself, while all came under his personal supervision before being placed in the museum. Labels of a descriptive nature had hitherto been mainly, if not entirely, conspicuous by their absence on the zoological side of the museum; and for some time the Index series alone afforded an example of the nature of the Director’s views on this all-important subject. Nor was this all; for in addition to these descriptive labels, other and larger labels were affixed in the cases, bearing the names of the various “classes,” “orders,” and “families,” to which the specimens respectively pertained; the limits of the space occupied by each group being indicated by black laths, varying in width according to the grade of the group they demarcated. By this means systematic divisions were clearly indicated; and on no consideration would Flower permit of any single specimen being placed elsewhere than in its proper systematic position.

Another innovation—so far at anyrate as the zoological side of the museum was concerned—was the placing of small maps alongside each specimen or each group, to illustrate, by means of colour, the geographical distribution of the species or group.

As regards the function of the Index Museum, it may be admitted that instead of, as originally intended, serving as an elementary guide in natural history to the uninstructed public, this exhibit is more generally used by serious zoological students, of whom numbers may from time to time be seen, book in hand, and sometimes under the guidance of a teacher, intently poring over the contents of the cases. Such a use—although not perhaps the prime object of a national museum—is, however, at least as important as catering to the requirements of the ordinary visitor.

The display in systematic and serial order of the external characters and internal anatomy of the leading types of living and extinct animals and plants formed, however, only a part of Flower’s scheme of exhibits for the central hall of the museum. Such specimens occupied only the “bays” or alcoves on the west and east sides, and there remained the large central floor space for exhibits of other descriptions. Advantage was taken of this to display examples of the phenomenon of seasonal colour-change in birds, accompanied in some instances, as in the ruff, by the development of special plumes round the neck, or elsewhere; the two species selected for illustration being the aforesaid ruff and the wild duck or mallard; the latter bird, together with many other members of its tribe, being remarkable on account of the assumption by the males at certain seasons of the year of an “eclipse” plumage, almost indistinguishable from that distinctive at all times of the year of the female. Other cases were devoted to showing some of the more remarkable kinds of variation produced from a single wild stock by domestication and artificial selection; the species exhibited for this purpose being several types of the common fowl, the various kinds of pigeons, and the more remarkable strains of the canary. The introduction of domesticated breeds, whose peculiarities are entirely, in the outset at anyrate, the result of man’s interference with the ordinary course of Nature, is a notable feature of this portion of the work of Flower, and indicates his sense of the important bearing of such artificial variations on the doctrine of the evolution of organic nature. “Mimicry” by animals of one group of those of another also formed an important part of this introductory series of exhibit; as did likewise the colour-adaptation of animals to their inorganic surroundings. This latter phenomenon is specially illustrated by a series of animals (mammals, birds and reptiles) from the Libyan desert, which are set up amid rocks and sand from the same locality so as to imitate as nearly as possible the natural conditions. And this case, together with one of these to be noticed immediately, affords an excellent example of Sir William’s painstaking efforts to make the exhibits in the museum as realistic as possible, and also his influence and persuasive power in inducing friends or correspondents to aid his endeavours. For in both these instances the animals and their inanimate surroundings were collected on the spot by generous and enthusiastic donors.

The second instance of the adaptation of animals to their surroundings is afforded by the two cases displaying respectively a summer and a winter scene in Norway, with the birds and mammals in the one in their brown dress, and in the other in their snow-white livery. Since Sir William’s death an Arctic fox, in the appropriate dress, had been added to each case, with a decided improvement to the general effect.

Another exhibit of the above nature is devoted to the phenomenon of albinism and melanism among animals; the two cases in which the specimens are shown containing an extraordinary number of species, varying in size from leopards to mice, in which these remarkable colour-phases are respectively displayed. The admission of such departures from the ordinary type into the museum justifies, it may be mentioned, the introduction of abnormalities of a more startling nature. Finally, as illustration of a transition from one species towards another, Sir William caused to be set up a series of typical specimens of the common and the hooded crow, together with offspring produced by the union of the two, which are to a great extent intermediate between the parent forms. In the same cases is a series of goldfinches, showing a complete gradation between birds of different coloration, and commonly regarded as belonging to distinct species.

All the above instances serve to demonstrate, however inadequately, Flower’s broad conception of the field to be covered by a national and educational museum, altogether apart from the exhibition of specimens illustrative of systematic natural history. It is no secret that Sir William wished to add a series illustrative of the present geographical distribution of animals on the surface of the globe; but, for lack of space, all that could be attempted in this direction was the exhibition of the British fauna, together with a map displaying the division of the world into zoological regions, according to the scheme of Messrs. Sclater and Wallace.

For several years, apart from administrative duties, Flower devoted practically the whole of his available time to the elaboration of the Index Museum and the other exhibits in the Central Hall, although he found opportunity to draw up a list of the specimens of Cetacea (whales and dolphins) in the collection of the Museum, which was published by order of the Trustees in 1885. Probably, indeed, this list was compiled before active work on the Index Museum had commenced. It is a very useful work to the student of the group, although limited to species represented in the Museum collection.

In the autumn of the year 1895 there occurred, however, an event, which may be said to have revolutionised Flower’s position in the Museum, and gave him that immediate personal control over the zoological collections which was essential to the full development and perfection of his scheme of museum reform and expansion. At that date Dr. Albert Günther retired from the position of Keeper of the Zoological Department; and it was then resolved by the Trustees of the Museum that this post should be held by Sir William (who, by the way, had been made C.B. in 1887 and K.C.B. in 1892), in conjunction with the office of Director.

This arrangement was continued throughout the remainder of Sir William’s term of office, and was likewise renewed when he was succeeded by Professor E. Ray Lankester, the present holder of the combined posts.

This, then, gave Flower, as already stated, the opportunity for which he had so long been waiting; and in January 1896 he undertook the supervision of the reorganisation and rearrangement of the mammal gallery.

Here a digression of some length must be made, in order to make the reader acquainted in a certain degree with the conditions then prevalent in the museum in connection with the galleries open to the public. In the first place, as already indicated, while the skins and bones of recent animals were contained and exhibited in the Zoological Department, the remains of their extinct relatives, and even the fossilised bones and teeth of the living species, were relegated to the Geological Department, which occupies the ground floor of the opposite side of the building. To make matters worse, the skeletons of living mammals were exhibited on the second floor of the zoological side of the building (instead of, as they should have been, on the ground floor), and thus as far away as they could possibly be from those of their extinct predecessors.

Such an unnatural and illogical sundering of kindred objects was altogether repugnant to the mind of Flower, who in his address to the British Association in 1889, to which allusion has been already made, expressed himself as follows:—

“For the perpetuation of the unfortunate separation of palæontology from biology, which is so clearly a survival of an ancient condition of scientific culture, and for the maintenance in its integrity of the heterogeneous compound of sciences which we now call ‘geology,’ the faulty organisation of our museums is in a great measure responsible. The more their rearrangement can be made to overstep and break down the abrupt line of demarcation which is still almost universally drawn between beings which live now and those which have lived in past times, so deeply rooted in the popular mind, and so hard to eradicate even from that of the scientific student, the better it will be for the progress of sound biological knowledge.”

The force of circumstances, coupled with the expense which would have been involved, was, however, too much for even a man with Flower’s force of character and determination, and the attempt to merge the palæontological with the zoological collections was consequently perforce abandoned.[2] As a compromise a certain number of fossil specimens, or casts of the same, were to be introduced among the recent mammals; while, conversely, a few skeletons of the latter were to take their place among the remains of their extinct forerunners.

In another mooted change, Sir William (as it lay entirely in the Department under his own special control) was, however, more successful. Previously it had been the practice in the museum to separate the skeletons and skulls and horns of mammals from the mounted skins, placing the former in a gallery by themselves, known as the Osteological Gallery. As a result of this, if a visitor wanted to ascertain the peculiarities of the skeleton of any mammal of which the skin was exhibited, he had to mount to the gallery above, and on his arrival there, very probably forgot the essential features of the skin. One of the first resolves in connection with the rearrangement was to do away with the Osteological Gallery altogether, and to place a certain proportion of the skeletons and skulls in juxtaposition with, or near by, the stuffed skins.

Another feature of the old method of exhibition in vogue in the museum was the crowding together of a vast number of specimens, good, bad, and indifferent (mostly either the second or third), many of which were duplicates, in such a manner that the great majority could scarcely be seen at all, while the effect of those that were more or less visible was marred and obscured by the adjacent specimens. To add to this unsatisfactory state of affairs was the bad condition—due either to age, to bad taxidermy, or both combined—of the bulk of the specimens. Moreover, by some inconceivable Vandalism, dating apparently from a very remote epoch in the museum’s history, every specimen was mounted on a stand of polished sycamore, the effect of which was to mar even a first-class specimen of taxidermy. When to the above is added the fact that, beyond the scientific and in most cases also the popular name of the species, nothing in the way of indicating the serial position of the various groups was attempted, while all that was done in the way of descriptive labels was the suspension here and there of frames containing extracts from the “Guide” to the gallery, it may be imagined that the state of the collection was very far indeed behind the Director’s idea of what it should be. Moreover, although in the case of the smaller animals a systematic arrangement was followed, the cases containing the larger species were disposed without any reference to the systematic position of the latter.

In regard to such matters the Director had, in the address quoted, already expressed his own views in no uncertain tone, as is evident from the following passage relating to the arrangement of specimens in the public galleries:—

“In the first place,” he writes, “their numbers must be strictly limited, according to the nature of the subject illustrated and the space available. None must be placed too high or too low for ready examination. There must be no crowding of specimens one behind another, every one being perfectly and distinctly seen, and with a clear space around it.... Every specimen exhibited should be good of its kind, and all available skill and care should be spent upon its preservation and rendering it capable of teaching the lesson it is intended to convey.... Every specimen exhibited should have its definite purpose, and no absolute duplicate should on any account be permitted.”

The purport of these golden words, which at the time they were written indicated an entirely new departure in museum arrangement and display, was, so far as possible, followed in the rearrangement of the mammal galleries. In the first place, the upper portions of the cases, which were far too high above the ground to permit of the proper exhibition of small specimens, were, except in those containing large mammals, closed up and employed for displaying the labels relating to the larger groups and the maps illustrating their geographical distribution. Then, again, the shelves, in place of being arranged one above another like those in a wardrobe, were reduced in number, and in most instances in width, so as to be suited to the best possible display of the specimens they were intended to carry. Duplicate specimens of all kinds, as well as representatives of species having but little general interest, were relentlessly weeded out and consigned to the store series; while efforts were made to procure new examples, mounted in the best possible manner, of all species—and these were by far the great majority—represented by badly-mounted, or old and faded specimens. This part of the business was found, however, to be a matter which must necessarily occupy much time, as it is impossible to procure examples of rare or large species, in a condition fit for stuffing, at the precise moment when they are required; and there is also the question of expense, which becomes very heavy indeed when renovating and replacing a collection of the proportions of that of the National Museum. This portion of the work has therefore been going on uninterruptedly ever since the first start was made, and is indeed being continued at the present time; for it has been found by experience that a collection of this nature, owing to the terribly bleaching effects of sunlight, requires constant renovation, and that exhibited museum specimens have only a definite and limited period, varying to a considerable extent according to the colour and nature of the hair in individual species, during which they are fitted to be publicly shown. Instead of a museum, when once arranged, being “a joy for ever,” it requires constant attention and renovation, so that even, to keep them in proper order, the mammal galleries alone in the Natural History Museum demand a large proportion of the time of one of the officials.

Not the least important of the changes made in the mammalian galleries under the supervision of Sir William Flower was the alteration of the colour of the stands on which the specimens were mounted. These, as already said, were of polished sycamore, the bright reflection from which was exceedingly unbecoming to the specimens, to say nothing of the obvious lack of æsthetic fitness in mounting stuffed mammals upon a polished surface of this nature. Before anything in the way of a change was attempted, Sir William sought the advice of his friend, the late Lord Leighton, after consultation with whom, it was finally decided that in future the stands should be of a good “cigar-colour.” This was effected, in the first instance, by scraping and staining the original sycamore stands—a work of great labour and expense; but all new ones were subsequently made of wood more easy to work, walnut being employed in the case of the smaller sizes. Even this improvement, great as it undoubtedly was, did not, however, by any means represent the full extent of the changes in this direction. After a short experience of the aforesaid “cigar-coloured” stands, it was found that the general effect was much improved by gouging out the upper surface of these, with the exception of a narrow rim round the margin, to a depth of a quarter or half an inch, and covering it with a thin layer of sand or earth, upon which leaves, pebbles, etc., might be disposed if required. Instead of “skating on sycamore tables,” the animals were by this means shown standing on a very good imitation of a natural land surface.

Nor was this all. At an early period during the rearrangement of the mammal galleries, Sir William suggested that many of the larger species might be mounted upon imitation ground-work covering the entire floor of the cases in which they were exhibited. This idea was forthwith put into execution in several cases, notably in these containing the lions, the tigers, and the group of fur-seals from the Pribiloff Islands, presented by Sir George Baden-Powell. Supposed difficulties with regard to the cleaning of the glass of the cases prevented this plan from being carried out to any greater extent during Sir William’s life-time. But these presumed difficulties were subsequently overcome, and of late years a considerable number of the cases containing the larger species of mammals have been treated in this manner with excellent effect and a vast increase to the general attractiveness of the museum. In some instances a merely conventional ground-work has been introduced, but in others a more realistic effect has been attempted. A notable example of this is the reindeer-case, in which the artificial ground-work is covered with rocks, lichen, moss, and birch-stems obtained from the reindeer pastures of Norway. Similarly, the Arctic musk-oxen have been placed on an imitation snow-slope. Although, as already said, much of this work has been carried out since his death, the idea originated entirely with Flower. A similar grouping of animals on artificial ground-work—when possible in imitation of the natural surroundings—has been instituted in some of the American museums, but whether following Flower’s lead, or as an original inspiration, I am unable to say.

At the time when Sir William took over the office of Keeper of the Zoological Department (in addition to the Directorship), the scheme then in vogue at the museum scarcely assigned to man his real zoological position—at the head of the order Primates in the mammalian class. It is true that in the osteological gallery the genus Homo was represented by a couple of skeletons and a series of skulls. But in the gallery devoted to stuffed specimens man, as an integral portion of the exhibited series, was conspicuous by his absence. This by no means suited the views of the Director, who in an obituary notice of Owen quoted with approval a statement of the great anatomist to the effect that no collection of zoology could in any way be regarded as complete without a large amount of space being devoted to the display of the physical characteristics of the various races of the human species. “The series of zoology would lack its most important feature were the illustrations of the physical characters of the human race omitted.” Such a series, thought Owen in 1862, would require a gallery of something like 150 feet in length, by 50 feet in width, for its proper display. Stuffed specimens being, of course, out of the question, the series was to include “casts of the entire body, coloured after life, of characteristic parts, as the head and face, skeletons of every variety arranged side by side for facility of comparison, the hair preserved in spirit, showing its characteristic sign and distinctive structures, etc.” Had photography been in anything like its present advanced position in 1862, no doubt its aid would have been claimed in illustrating the various racial types of the human species.

A gallery of anything like the dimensions required by Owen was quite out of the question when Flower planned the addition of an anthropological section to the mammalian series, but one-half of the portion of the upper mammal gallery now open to the public was reserved for this purpose, so that man took his proper place in the zoological series immediately after the gorilla, chimpanzee, and the other man-like apes, which, in their turn, were preceded by the lower types of monkey. In the main, the specimens exhibited in this series follow on the lines suggested by Owen, including coloured casts of the upper part of the body, or the head and neck alone, specimens of the hair, skulls, skeletons, etc.

In addition to these is a series of photographs of heads enlarged to natural size, and including, whenever possible, a full face and a profile view of each individual represented. Flower took great interest in these photographs (as in the anthropological series generally), and made several experiments before finally deciding as to the scale to which they were to be enlarged. As facilities for photographing in the museum itself were at the time very limited, Flower enlisted the assistance of Dr. H. O. Forbes, Director of the Liverpool Museums, who entered enthusiastically into the project, and under whose superintendence the great majority of the reproductions from photographs now exhibited was produced; the arrangement being that Liverpool should have a copy of every photograph forwarded for reproduction.

The races of mankind were arranged in the gallery according to Flower’s own scheme, fuller reference to which is made elsewhere in the present volume. Flower himself did not survive long enough to see the arrangement he had plotted out fully installed. Of late years, although some progress has been made in this direction, the series of coloured casts of the various human races has not increased so rapidly as Flower had hoped they would; but, nevertheless, a fairly representative series had been brought together, and there is, at present, ample space for additions when opportunities of acquiring new specimens occur. It should be added that Flower inaugurated the plan of making a collection of photographs of the various human races to be kept in the study series.

It must not, however, be supposed that Flower, during his too brief tenure of the office of Keeper of the Zoological Department, by any means confined his attention to the mammalian galleries. On the contrary, he had with his own hands rearranged two of the cases in the bird gallery, namely, those containing the humming-birds and the woodpeckers; and shortly before his resignation he was planning the rearrangement of all the cases in this section; a work which since his death has been carried out to completion on the same lines. In this connection it is, however, only fair to state that in the obituary notice of Flower, published in the “Year-Book” of the Royal Society for 1901, full justice has not been done to his predecessors. The passage in question runs as follows:—

“Every effort was made to give the specimens natural postures and natural surroundings. Thus, for example, the tree on which the woodpecker was at work, was cut down, the foliage modelled in wax, and all the surroundings carefully kept. Hovering birds were suspended by fine wire or thread. Birds making nests in holes, such as the Manx shearwater, sand-martin and kingfishers, either had the actual parts or a model of these beside them, just as the nests of the gannets and guillemots on the Bass Rock were shown with their natural environment.”

The obvious inference from this would be that the cases of birds mounted in imitation of their natural environment, inclusive of the splendid model of a portion of the Bass Rock, with its feathered inhabitants placed in the “pavilion” at the end of the bird gallery, are due to the initiation of Flower. This is far from being the case; and he himself would have been the very last man to claim credit which was not his due. As a matter of fact, the idea of mounting birds in this manner originated with Dr. Bowdler Sharpe during the Keepership of Dr. Günther; the first case installed on these lines being the one containing the common coot. The series was continued during Dr. Günther’s term of office, and was kept up by Flower after his succession to the Keepership. As regards the Bass Rock model, this was also installed during Dr. Günther’s Keepership, and, I believe, while Owen was Superintendent. What Flower did initiate in the bird gallery was the rearrangement of the wall-cases on much the same lines as the mammal galleries, including the rejection of duplicates and uninteresting species, and the replacement of worn-out and badly-mounted specimens, by new and artistically set-up examples, and the addition of maps and descriptive labels. As a matter of fact, the replacement and remounting of specimens have been carried out to a much greater extent among the birds than has been found possible with the mammals. A large number of the birds have been mounted by Cullingford of Durham, whereas nearly all the mammals have been set up by three London taxidermists, namely Rowland Ward, Ltd., Gerrard, and Pickhardt. This plan of employing several firms of taxidermists, instead of giving all the work to one, was much favoured by Flower, as it gave rise to a healthy competition and rivalry, and thus produced better results; the different firms being kept up to the mark by having their names affixed to the more important examples of their respective work.

Before his last illness Flower had in contemplation a plan for treating the reptile and fish galleries (in which the crowded exhibits displayed a monotonous and dismal “khaki” hue) on the above lines, but this work was left for his successor, by whom it is in course of being carried out with characteristic energy and originality.

There is, however, another section of the zoological department of the museum which owes its conception entirely to Sir William Flower, and which he was fortunately spared to complete. This is the whale-room, or whale-annexe, as it might be better called; for it is a temporary structure of galvanised iron, lined with match-boarding built out from the north-west angle of the building, and entered by a passage leading out of the corridor alongside the bird gallery. At the time that Flower took over the Keepership of the Zoological Department, with the exception of a skeleton of the sperm-whale, placed in the middle of the Central Hall, the specimens of Cetacea were housed in a portion of the basement, never intended for a public gallery and very unsuited to that purpose. The collection consisted mainly of skeletons and skulls, together with samples of whalebone and teeth; for it had been found by experience that it was a practical impossibility to mount the skins of the larger whales for exhibition purposes. Indeed, there is great difficulty in doing this even in the case of the dolphins, porpoises, and smaller whales, owing to the fact that their skins are saturated with oil, which, even after the most careful preparation, is almost sure, sooner or later, to exude through the pores, and render the specimens unsightly, if not absolutely unfit for exhibition.

Previously to Flower’s attempt to make an adequate and striking exhibition of the bodily form of the larger whales, some of the smaller members of the group, such as the killer-whale, had been modelled in America in papier-maché; one such model of the species in question being exhibited in the museum. Flower, however, conceived the idea of making models in plaster of even the largest species of whales; but, in order to save both material and space, resolved that these should be restricted to one-half of the animal, and should be constructed upon the actual skeleton, thereby ensuring, with the aid, when possible, of measurements taken from carcases, practically absolute accuracy as regards size and proportion. In due course, after great labour and care, such half-models were built up on the skeletons of the sperm-whale, the southern right-whale, and two species of fin-whale, or rorqual, while others were made of some of the smaller kinds, such as the narwhal and the beluga or white whale. Skeletons and skulls of other species, together with complete models or stuffed skins, or models of the head alone, of many of the porpoises and dolphins, and other specimens illustrating the natural history of the Cetacea, were likewise placed in the new annexe, which was opened to the public on Whit Monday 1897. Flower had always been impressed with the great structural difference between the toothed whales, as represented by the sperm-whale, grampuses, porpoises, dolphins, etc., on the one hand, and the whalebone-whales, such as the right-whales, humpbacks, and finners, on the other; and in order to emphasise this essential distinction, he caused the skeletons and models of the one group to be mounted with their heads in one direction, while those of the second were turned the opposite way.

Although it was found impossible to obtain a skeleton of the Greenland right-whale, Flower was able to persuade Captain Gray, a well-known whaler, to carve a miniature model in wood, which gives an excellent idea of the proportions, especially the huge size of the head and mouth, of this interesting species. Sketches on the walls of the building illustrate the habits and mode of capture of the sperm-whale, while others serve to show the bodily form of species not yet represented by models.

At the time it was opened this exhibit was absolutely unique; and, in the belief of the writer, it remains so to the present day. Unfortunately, the size and design of the building, which has a row of wooden posts down the middle, are such as greatly to interfere with the proper effect of the specimens exhibited; and it is much to be hoped that means will be found to erect a larger gallery, of a more permanent nature, which will not only allow the contents of the present structure to be adequately seen, but will likewise leave space to permit of models of other species, such as the humpback whale, to be added to the series.

Hitherto I have dwelt exclusively upon Sir William’s efforts to improve the museum under his charge, from the point of view of the general public, that is to say, as an institution for the exhibition of natural history specimens. It must, however, be always remembered that this was but one side of his task, and that he laboured hard during the whole time of his official connection with the museum not only to increase the study, or reserve, collections (which are those on which the real scientific work of the museum is almost exclusively based), but to add to the space available for their storage and for the workers by whom they are studied.

Early in his career as Director he recognised the insufficiency of the accommodation of this nature, although, as usual, he expressed his opinion in extremely cautious and guarded language. For instance, in his address as President of the Museum Associations in 1893, after referring to the deficiencies of all, at that time, modern museums, which were described as having been built during a period when opinion was still divided as to the proper function of institutions of this nature, he continued as follows:—

“In none, perhaps, is this more strikingly shown than in our own—built, unfortunately, before any of the others, and so without the advantages of the experience that might have been gained from their successes or their shortcomings. Though a building of acknowledged architectural beauty, and with some excellent features, it cannot be taken structurally as a model museum when the test of adaptation to the purpose to which it is devoted is rigidly applied.”

This unsuitableness, it may be added, is apparent not only in the lack of accommodation for the study series, but in the exhibition galleries themselves, where architectural ornament interferes with the proper display of the specimens, if indeed it does not absolutely preclude their being placed on the walls, while an excess of light (which has been partially remedied by blocking up the lower portion of the windows in some of the zoological galleries) causes the specimens to become prematurely bleached and faded.

As regards the deficiency of accommodation for the study series in the museum, Sir William endeavoured to remedy this, so far as possible, by closing some portions of the galleries previously open to the public—a step, which, however necessary, tended to mar the building, so far as exhibition purposes are concerned.

“While thus maintaining,” writes his biographer in the “Year-book” of the Royal Society for 1901, “the high scientific reputation of the great National Museum, he continued to popularise the institution and science by taking parties of working men round the museum on Sundays, and occasionally a distinguished visitor, like Dr. Nansen, would also join the group. Nor was he less attentive to members of the Royal Family, or to distinguished statesmen, like Mr. Gladstone, who honoured the museum with their presence. Foreign rulers, like the Queen of Holland, the Prince of Naples, the Empress Frederick of Germany, and the King of Siam, were also interested in the collection, so that the popularity and welfare of the museum were greatly extended by the Director’s tact and urbanity. Formerly, he had taken a leading part in interesting the Prince of Wales (his present Majesty), who was present at Sir James Paget’s Hunterian Oration in 1877, in the Museum of the Royal College of Surgeons, and in arranging for an exhibition of the Prince’s hunting trophies at the Zoological Society shortly afterwards, so in his new sphere royal and other powerful influences were utilised for the improvement and popularising of the collection.”

King Edward, as Prince of Wales, it may be added, was a constant attendant at the meetings of the Board of Trustees at the Museum during Sir William Flower’s administration; and would occasionally, at the close of the meeting, accompanied by the Director, make an inspection of some of the galleries. As indicative of the interest he took in the details of the arrangement of the museum, it may be mentioned that on one of these tours of inspection His Majesty took exception to the position assigned to the head of a reindeer, and desired that it might be placed elsewhere.

One other point in connection with Sir William’s administration may be noticed. Ever since its establishment the hall and public exhibition galleries of the Natural History Museum had been guarded during exhibition hours by members of the Metropolitan Police—an arrangement which involved a very large expense to the country. Flower suggested that, provided two or three police sergeants and constables were detailed for special duty, the general work of guarding the collections could be equally well done by members of the Corps of Commissionaires, thereby not only effecting a considerable financial saving, but likewise a fresh area of employment for a very deserving class of the community. This arrangement, which was found to work smoothly and satisfactorily, has remained in force ever since. It may be added that the opening of the museum for a limited number of hours on Sunday afternoons commenced during Flower’s tenure of office; this arrangement being common to other institutions of a like nature.

At the special recommendation of the Trustees, the Treasury, when Sir William reached the age for retirement, according to Civil Service rules, extended his term of office for three years. A lengthened period of physical weakness and prostration rendered it, however, impossible for Flower to avail himself of the whole of this extension, and in July 1898 the state of his health was such that he felt himself compelled to send in his resignation.

When this resignation was accepted by the Standing Committee of the Trustees of the Museum, a special Minute, signed by Lord Dillon, gave expression to the regret felt by that body and the Trustees generally at the retirement of Sir William, to whom every compliment was paid as a worthy successor of Sir Richard Owen, and as one who had done so much towards the reorganisation of a museum pre-eminent amongst institutions of its kind.

To enter upon the relations of Flower to his subordinates in the Museum is treading upon somewhat delicate ground; it may be safely affirmed, however, that to those who were in full sympathy and accord with his way of looking at things and his schemes for the general advancement and improvement of the institution under his charge, no truer friend or kinder master could possibly have been found. Owing to the fact that the time of the permanent officials of the museum is for the most part fully occupied in working out the store collections, and registering and, when necessary, describing new acquisitions, Sir William soon found that he had not sufficient skilled labour at his disposal wherewith to carry out the installation of the Index Museum and his meditated improvements in the exhibition series. Accordingly he obtained the assent of the Treasury to employ the services of a few scientific men not on the staff of the museum for these purposes; an arrangement which has been continued under his successor.

Sir William’s services to the museum, as well as to science in general, are commemorated by a bust, executed by Mr. T. Brock, and placed on the south side of the entrance to the first “bay” of the Index Museum. The funds necessary for this were raised by the “Flower Memorial Committee,” to which Mr. F. E. Beddard, Prosector of the Zoological Society, acted as Secretary. The bust, which in a profile view, is an excellent likeness of the late Director, was unveiled on 26th July 1903, by the Archbishop of Canterbury, in the presence of a representative assemblage of men of science and personal friends, as well as of statesmen.

The proceedings were opened by Professor E. Ray Lankester, the Director of the Museum, who moved that Lord Avebury (better known in scientific circles as Sir John Lubbock), the Chairman of the Memorial Committee, should take the chair. The Chairman, having taken his seat, expressed his pleasure in being called upon to preside at the ceremony, on account of his admiration and respect for the late Sir William Flower, and for the services he had rendered to zoological science.

Dr. Philip Lutley Sclater, the Secretary of the Zoological Society, also spoke as an old and intimate friend of the late Director, with whom he had been brought into specially close contact during the long period the latter presided over the Zoological Society.

The Archbishop of Canterbury, in a brief speech previous to unveiling the bust, referred to two traits in Flower’s character which had specially struck his Grace, and which were seldom found associated in the same individual, one of these being his great love of talking on his own special subjects of study, and the other that, in spite of this, he never bored even the least interested of his hearers. During his Directorship Flower had done more to popularise the museum, and museums generally, than had any other man of science.

The proceedings closed with the usual vote of thanks to the Chairman.

In addition to writing numerous scientific memoirs, Flower found time during his tenure of the Directorship of the museum to prepare for publication two volumes of considerable interest. The first was the one on _The Horse_, issued in 1891, to which fuller reference is made in a later chapter; and the second, the well-known _Essays on Museums_, which appeared in 1898, and consists of a collected series of essays, articles, addresses, etc., on natural history and kindred subjects. A melancholy interest attached to this volume (which is dedicated to Lady Flower), since, as we are told in the preface, it was compiled during a period of enforced restraint from active occupation, which was evidently only the prelude to the final breakdown.

It was also during his Directorship of the Museum that _The Study of Mammals_ saw the light.