At the end of ten weeks, if A. B. has the good fortune to be perfectly unknown by any literary or scientific achievement, however small, he is quite sure of being elected as a matter of course. If, on the other hand, he has unfortunately written on any subject connected with science, or is supposed to be acquainted with any branch of it, the members begin to inquire what he has done to deserve the honour; and, unless he has powerful friends, he has a fair chance of being black-balled.[1]
In fourteen years' experience, the few whom I have seen rejected, have all been known persons; but even in such cases a hope remains;—perseverance will do much, and a gentleman who values so highly the distinction of admission to the Royal Society, may try again; and even after being twice black-balled, if he will a third time condescend to express his desire to become a member, he may perhaps succeed, by the aid of a hard canvass. In such circumstances, the odds are much in favour of the candidate pos-
- ↑ I understand that certificates are now read at the Council, previously to their being hung up in the meeting-room; but I am not aware that this has in the slightest degree diminished their number, which was, at the time of writing this note, twenty-four.
