last of a trio of distinguished men who have studied Australian plants in Australia itself. I do not refer to the immortal Bentham in this connection, but the names of Robert Brown and Allan Cunningham are inseparably bound up with the elucidation of the flora of this continent. As Lord Rosebery said of Mr. Gladstone, who had not long passed away, 'we are too close to the mountain to grasp its true proportions,' so I would say of our late friend, that we cannot yet fully realise his achievements. Personally I place him second only to Robert Brown, the 'Facile princeps botanicorum' of Humboldt. He is the last of the botanists of the whole continent of Australia; those of us who carry on his work are provincial botanists, confining our researches more or less to one State. We find the botanical work of one State sufficiently engrossing, and thus in botanical matters we are reversing the act of federation, which politically unites all our peoples. But our provincial arrangements are those of convenience only. We are all happily working to a common end. Apart from his intellectual greatness the industry of Mueller was prodigious. The clock was never used by him as an indicator to cease his labours; he seemed to aim at perpetual motion, and now this silent monument points to rest. He was a public servant who did not work for his pay; a portion of this satisfied his modest personal requirements; the rest was spent by him in the furtherance of his studies. He well advertised Australia in the best sense, and while I think his memory will long be green in his adopted country, he is affectionately remembered in other parts of the world, as I can testify. Personally I owe much to my late master, and I have often gratefully acknowledged my indebtedness to him. Much of my life is spent in gardens or in traversing the bush for the purpose of botanical exploration. Though alone in my wanderings, the memory of my late friend is often with me; different plants remind me of Mueller's work in various ways. To me the beautiful lines of Tennyson's "In Memoriam" have a deep and special significance, as I think of the great man in whose honour we are met on this beautiful November day:—
