To the interests of that Museum no man of sense will think that Sir Joseph Banks was, at any time, indifferent. At this particular time, he had been, repeatedly, an eminent benefactor to it. By the French Prince the Collections were put at his orders for the advantage of the Museum, of which he was now a Trustee, as well as a benefactor. But his first thought was for the national honour of Britain, not for the mere aggrandizement of its Museum. ‘I have never heard,’ said Banks, ‘of any declaration of war between the philosophers of England and the philosophers of France. These French Collections must go to the French Museum, not to the British.’ And to France he sent them, without a moment’s hesitation. Such an act, I take it, is worthy of the name of ‘cosmopolitanism.’ The bastard imitation, sometimes current under that much abused term—that which knows of no love of country, except upon a clear balance of mercantile profit—might be more fitly called by a plainer word.

Instances of Banks’ liberality to Humboldt.

Nor were Frenchmen the only persons to benefit by the largeness of view which belonged to the new President of the Royal Society. At a later period, he heard that Collections which had been made by William Von Humboldt, and subsequently seized by pirates, had been carried to the Cape, and there detained. Banks sent to the Cape a commission for their release, and restoration to the Collector. He defrayed the expenses, and refused to accept of any reimbursement. Such actions might well reflect honour on the Royal Society, as well as on the man whom the wisest among its fellows had placed at their head.

The Royal Society had but a share of its President’s attention, though the share was naturally a Benjamin’s portion. He worked assiduously on the Board of Agriculture. He helped to found the Horticultural Society and the Royal Institution of London. He became, also, in 1788, a co-founder of that ‘African Institution’ which contributed so largely, in the earlier years of this century, to promote geographical discovery in Africa, and to spread—of dire necessity, at but a snail’s pace—some of the blessings of Christian civilization to those dark places of the earth which are full of cruelty.

Banks’ close intercourse with the Continent enabled him to do yeoman’s service to the African Institution. Many ardent and aspiring young men in all parts of Europe were fired, from time to time, with an ambition to do some stroke or other of good work in an enterprise which was, at once, scientific and, in its ultimate issues, evangelical. Some of the aspirants were, of course, but very partially fitted or equipped for such labours. But among those who entered on it with fairest promise the protégés of Banks were conspicuous. Some brief notice of the services he was enabled to render in this direction belongs, however, more fitly, to a somewhat later date than that at which we have, as yet, arrived.

Banks’ favourable reception at the Court of George III.

Among the Fellows of the Royal Society there had been much division of opinion as to the eligibility of Joseph Banks for their Presidency. At Court, there was none. George the Third, with all his genuine good nature, had been unable to restrain a lurking dislike of Sir John Pringle’s friendly intercourse with Benjamin Franklin. He was pleased to see Pringle retire to his native Scotland, and to receive Banks at Court, in Sir John’s place. He did not then anticipate that the new President would, one day, offend (for a moment) his irrepressible prejudices in a somewhat like manner.

Sometimes, Sir Joseph’s attendance at Court brought him into company which had become to him, in some degree, unwonted. We have seen him making a very favourable impression in the feminine circles at Otaheite. But the ladies in attendance on Queen Charlotte were less charmed with him. In March, 1788, I find Fanny Burney diarizing (at Windsor Castle) thus:—‘Sir Joseph Banks was so exceedingly shy that we made no acquaintance at all. If, instead of going round the world, he had only fallen from the moon, he could not appear less versed in the usual modes of a tea-drinking party. |D’Arblay, Diary, vol. iv, p. 128.| But what, you will say, has a tea-party to do with a botanist, a man of science, and a President of the Royal Society?’

In March, 1779, Mr. Banks made a happy marriage with Dorothea Hugessen, daughter and coheir of William Weston Hugessen, of Provender, in Kent. Two years afterwards, the King made him a Knight Grand Cross of the Order of the Bath, and cultivated his familiar and frequent acquaintance both in town and at Windsor. Ere long, he was still further honoured with the rank of a Privy Councillor. Both men were deeply interested in agriculture and in the improvement of stock. Sir Joseph shared his sovereign’s liking for the Merino breeds; took an active part in managing those in Windsor Park, and for many years presided, very successfully, over the annual sales. The King had been willing to give away his surplus stock, for the mere sake of promoting improvement, but he was made to see that more good was likely to accrue from sales than from gifts. When in Lincolnshire Sir Joseph Banks laboured hard for the more complete drainage of the fens, and in many ways furthered the introduction of sound agricultural methods. He was a good neighbour; though not a very keen sportsman. And most of his time was now necessarily passed either in London or in its neighbourhood. But, among other acts of good fellowship, he rarely visited Reresby Abbey without patronising a picnic ball at Horncastle, for the benefit of the public dispensary of that town. And it was noted by Lincolnshire people that when, in the after-years, Sir Joseph’s severe sufferings from gout kept him much away from Reresby, the dispensary suffered also—from depletion—until Mr. Dymoke, of Scrivelsby, had revived, after Banks’ example, the good old annual custom of the town.

The African Institution.