Abstract

I consider it a great privilege to be given this opportunity to express my admiration for the Royal Society. That we are here on this particular evening is already a manifestation of its spirit of independence, for, as one of my friends has pointed out to me, the rules in its Charter of 1662 concerning what to do when St Andrews day falls on a Sunday deviate boldly from ecclesiastic practice. But why St Andrews day? About St Andrew the New Testament tells us but little; I had to turn to the pseudepigrapha for further information. At first I was disappointed. Neither an astonishing series of miracles, nor his adventures among cannibals, nor even his way of dealing with a naked harlot posted in a city gate to scare Christians and keep them out of town—needless to say the lady was duly converted and she even turned her house into a monastery for virgins although this meant she had to leave it herself—none of these things would appear to qualify him specifically as a patron-saint of the Royal Society’s anniversary dinner. But let me quote a few sentences from his discourse to fellow prisoners: ‘Let us rejoice with ourselves in this bountiful fellowship . . . we are not cast on the ground, we that have been recognized by so great highness. . . we belong to a greatness unto which we aspire.. . .’ Such lines, you will agree, might well have been written for the present occasion. In any case they express feelings most appropriate to a man like myself who is a guest of your great Society.

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