composed of endemic species of great scientific interest, but, at present, excepting the efforts of a few private individuals, very little appears to have been done to make any complete collections of our plants and animals. Probably many important species are already completely exterminated, and there is not the least doubt that a very large number are rapidly approaching extinction. The annihilation of obscure forms of life no doubt appears to a great many people a matter of small importance, and they would probably regard the careful collection and preservation of the smaller plants and animals as quite unnecessary. Ideas of this kind, however, simply arise from the present imperfect state of scientific knowledge. There are very few who have not some interest in such extinct animals as the moa and the mammoth, and who do not regret that they are unable to see these creatures as they actually appeared when alive. The Maoris, or other people who destroyed the last of the moas, had no ideas of this kind; they regarded their dinner as of far more practical importance. The Siberian peasants had even more advanced ideas on economic utility, as they used the flesh of the frozen, extinct mammoth to feed their dogs. I am afraid that our more cultured successors, whose scientific knowledge will have become a little more developed than ours, will regard us in very much the same light as we now regard these savages. They will say that “the people of the nineteenth century, in their haste to obtain wealth, altered the face of the earth, not even taking the trouble to preserve collections of its ancient inhabitants for our instruction.” I think that, if we do not wish to incur future criticism of this kind, more efforts will have to be made in the direction of making and preserving collections than has yet been done.

Setting aside for a time the enormous value of such collections to future naturalists, I should like to direct attention to their importance, from an educational point of view, at the present time. It is, I believe, generally admitted that far more lasting and accurate knowledge is gained by direct observation than by instruction through the medium of books. There is no doubt, then, that well-arranged collections would enable students to arrive at a far more definite knowledge of the science of biology than is at present possible. The appearance of such collections would also act as a stimulus, first to collecting, and afterwards, as a natural result, to scientific study. It has been noticed in nearly every instance that the greatest biologists in different branches have risen from the vast body of ordinary collectors. I am sure that if complete and well-arranged collections of the New Zealand fauna and flora were to be seen in the Wellington Museum our naturalists would largely increase. As an

example, I may mention that I know of several persons whose attention to entomology has been solely aroused by the cabinet of New Zealand insects which Mr. Palmer presented to the Museum some years ago. It is, as Professor Huxley has pointed out, an easy transition from “simple curiosity” to “natural science,” and I feel confident that the inspection of collections is far more likely to arouse such curiosity than any amount of school-teaching. As to the present modes of education, I think their success must be regarded as somewhat questionable, as we observe that in the majority of instances there is not the slightest desire for any kind of intellectual advancement after the requisite examinations have been passed. This subject has, of course, been fully discussed, with great ability, by Herbert Spencer, but his system of education is, unfortunately, far from being followed out even now; hence, no doubt, the imperfect result.

Under the present museum arrangements it is certain that all the best collections of both fauna and flora are sent to England. They are not sufficiently appreciated or looked after here, and it is but natural that workers who have spent many years and much labour in getting together good collections should desire to see them safely deposited in an institution like the British Museum, where their careful preservation is insured. At the same time, there cannot be the least doubt that such collections would be far more valuable in the colony, as they would assist students in investigation by enabling them to identify and classify their specimens with ease and accuracy. At present, for the want of local collections, any worker in any branch of natural history is obliged to send specimens to Europe for identification. I have, by following this course, got together a named collection of Lepidoptera, comprising about 250 species (or less than half of the known New Zealand lepidopterous fauna), and, judging from the number of applications I receive for the identification of species, it would appear that there is nothing of the kind in any of the New Zealand museums. I presume the other branches of biology are in much the same condition. In fact, I know that if I wish to obtain the name of a plant, mollusc, crustacean, or, in fact, almost anything, I have to consult specialists who have their private collections to refer to. These should certainly be represented in the Museum. In fact, if museum collections were once established, they could be easily extended indefinitely by adopting the same course as that followed by many entomologists. It is a generally-understood thing that in naming insects for a correspondent a specimen is forfeited for every identification; consequently, if the Museum undertook the identification of all plants and animals submitted to it, its collections could be increased almost without expense, and

would thus become more widely known, and the ratio of their increase would be cumulative. Exchanges could also be carried on, if desirable, with museums in other countries, and collections of great variety, magnitude, and value might thus be readily formed. In fact, the Museum would have such great advantages over private individuals that its collections would soon become the accepted standards for reference.

Few branches of natural science are now regarded as of greater importance than the geographical distribution of organisms. The occurrence of the same species and genera of animals and plants at remote localities on the earth's surface has been often regarded, by geologists and others, as affording the best evidence of the configuration of the land and water in long-past epochs of the world's history. Many other facts have been derived from a careful comparison of forms of life obtained at widely-distant localities. These are related in a most concise and masterly manner by Charles Darwin in that truly marvellous work “The Origin of Species.” With your permission, I will briefly quote two examples as instances of what may be learned from geographical distribution. It has been noticed that a very close relationship exists between the marine productions on each side of the Isthmus of Panama, a fact apparently only to be explained by the existence of an opening between the two Americas at a period not sufficiently remote to have allowed any important modifications to have occurred in the organisms on each side of the present isthmus. There is also a very close relationship between the high alpine fauna and flora and the arctic fauna and flora all round the world in the Northern Hemisphere, apparently indicating that at one time the intervening lowlands were under an arctic climate, a gradual increase in heat driving the organisms northwards and to the mountain-tops, where they now remain as isolated survivals, the inhabitants of the most remote summits showing the closest possible resemblance to one another. These, and many other facts of equal interest and importance, have been derived from our scanty knowledge of geographical distribution, and it may be reasonably anticipated that other equally-important facts will be discovered as our knowledge in this direction increases.

It is almost unnecessary to state that no approach to a complete knowledge of the geographical distribution of living beings can be attained without the formation of exhaustive collections in each country. One effect of modern civilisation is to alter the ancient distribution of all organisms; and the importance of speedy attention to this branch of knowledge is manifest, unless, indeed, we are content to let everything go, and thus forbid any accurate knowledge of the prehistoric earth from ever being obtained. The importance of New