Reflections on the Decline of Science in England

Of the Presidency and Vice-Presidencies.

Why Mr. Davies Gilbert became President of the Royal Society I cannot precisely say.  Let him who penned, and those who supported this resolution solve the enigma: 

“It was Resolved,

“That it is the opinion of the Council that Davies Gilbert, Esq. is by far the most fit person to be proposed to the Society at the approaching anniversary as President, and that he be recommended accordingly.”

To resolve that he was a fit person might have been sufficiently flattering:  to state that he was the most fit, was a little hard upon the rest of the Society; but to resolve that he was “By far the most fit” was only consistent with that strain of compliment in which his supporters indulge, and was a eulogy, by no means unique in its kind, I believe, even at that very Council.

That Mr. Gilbert is a most amiable and kind-hearted man will be instantly admitted by all who are, in the least degree, acquainted with him:  that he is fit for the chair of the Royal Society, will be allowed by few, except those who have committed themselves to the above-quoted resolution.

Possessed of knowledge and of fortune more than sufficient for it, he might have been the restorer of its lustre.  He might have called round him, at the council board, those most actively engaged in the pursuits of science, most anxious for the improvement of the Royal Society.  Instead of himself proposing resolutions, he might have been, what a chairman ought to be, the organ of the body over which he presides.  By the firmness of his own conduct he might have taught the subordinate officers of the Society the duties of their station.  Instead of paying compliments to Ministers, who must have smiled at his simplicity, he might have maintained the dignity of his Council by the dignity of knowledge.

But he has chosen a different path; with no motives of interest to allure, or of ambition to betray him, instead of making himself respected as the powerful chief of a united republic,—­ that of science,—­he has grasped at despotic power, and stands the feeble occupant of its desolated kingdom, trembling at the force of opinions he might have directed, and refused even the patronage of their names by those whose energies he might have commanded.

Mr. Gilbert told the Society he accepted the situation for a year; and this circumstance caused a difficulty in finding a Treasurer:  an office which he had long held, and to which he wished to return.

Another difficulty might have arisen, from the fact of the late Board of Longitude comprising amongst its Members the president of the Royal Society, and three of its Fellows, appointed by the President and Council.  Of course, when Mr. Gilbert accepted the higher situation, he became, ex OFFICIO, a Member of the Board of Longitude; and a vacancy occurred, which ought to have been filled up by the President and Council.  But when this subject was brought before them, in defiance of common sense, and the plain meaning of the act of parliament, which had enacted that the Board of Longitude should have the assistance of four persons belonging to the Royal Society, Mr. Gilbert refused to allow it to be filled up, on the ground that he should not be President next year, and had made no vacancy.

Next year Mr. Gilbert wished again to be President one other year; but the Board of Longitude was dissolved, otherwise we might have had some LOCUM TENENS to retire at Mr. Gilbert’s pleasure.

These circumstances are in themselves of trifling importance, but they illustrate the character of the proceedings:  and it is not becoming the dignity of science or of the Society that its officers should be so circumstanced as to have an apparent and direct interest in supporting the existing President, in order to retain their own places; and if such a system is once discovered, doubt immediately arises as to the frequency of such arrangements.