Another journey which may be mentioned here was his trip to Teneriffe in the spring of 1891. His health at this time was far from robust, and was indeed causing some anxiety to his friends; but he was determined as usual to gain from his visit intellectual profit as well as (if possible) some benefit to his health. He wrote to H. D. Grissell on March 16, 1891:
Orotava, Teneriffe.
I date to you from this eccentric place, whither I have come to try and patch myself together by a stay of a few weeks. Of course these islands are utterly unknown to me, and the vegetation in particular is at first sight quite startlingly novel. The air is delicious, but I feel the want of sun, and there is much cold wind. As Piazzi Smyth speaks much of the clouds here, I suspect that this stupendous mountain (of which we rarely see the top, and only in early morning or late evening) has much to do with it.
The outcome of Bute's sojourn in the Canary Islands was a remarkable paper, "On the Ancient Language of the Inhabitants of Teneriffe," which he read at the meeting that summer of the British Association at Cardiff, and afterwards published in the Scottish Review. Like most of his writings on such recondite subjects, it was more or less "caviare to the general"; but it aroused considerable attention among philologists, who recognised it as a genuine and valuable contribution to linguistic science. Professor Sayce wrote to him from Queen's College, Oxford:
October 17, 1891.
Many thanks for your kindness in sending me your monograph on the extinct language of Teneriffe. I wish that all linguistic investigations had been conducted with similar care and caution; we should have had fewer difficulties to contend with in the study of linguistic science. You have shown us exactly what are the materials on which we can base our opinion on the ancient language of Teneriffe, and how far those materials can be trusted. For this reason your paper seems to me to be of very real value.
It seems right to refer in this place to another and later tribute paid by another and equally distinguished man of science, who in his estimate of Bute's remarkable attainments makes special allusion to the article we are now considering. Sir William Huggins, who was very intimate with him in the later years of his life, wrote as follows:
The Marquess of Bute was one of those, the deeper side of whose mind and character could be duly appreciated only by those who had the privilege of his friendship. A man of great natural gifts, he was highly cultured on many sides; and the extent and the variety of his information on a vast variety of subjects was really remarkable. No scientist[[7]] could discuss a scientific matter with him without being struck by the clear-sighted way in which he saw into the heart of the matter, and the fairness and patience with which he would weigh and consider it from various points of view. These qualities were well shown in the very interesting and valuable paper on "The Ancient Language of the Natives of Teneriffe" contributed by him to the British Association when it met at Cardiff.... Lord Bute's sensitive nature revolted from the killing of any living thing. But he was keenly interested in natural history, and had a knowledge of many creatures and of their habits as intimate and searching as that of the most scientific sportsman.
Home in Regent's Park
The reference in the last paragraph recalls the fact that when (in 1888) Lord Bute first acquired a London domicile, purchasing the twenty-seven years' lease of St. John's Lodge, in Regent's Park, he was particularly interested in finding himself in close proximity to both the Zoological and the Botanic Gardens. A priest who was often his guest there used to say that he could walk on the terrace, with its matchless view of garden and park and forest trees, and recite his Office in perfect quietness, with the tumult of London reduced to a distant hum, and the silence only occasionally broken by the roar of wild beasts in the "Zoo" not far away. Bute was a fellow of both societies, and often strolled in one or other of the gardens with his guests or members of his family of a Sunday afternoon, talking freely with the custodians of animals and plants, and not infrequently astonishing them with the variety of his knowledge. One of his guests was looking, in the Botanic Gardens, at a remarkable and recently-acquired collection of dwarf Japanese trees, and observed that Lord Bute would be interested in seeing them. "Yes," was the reply, "his lordship knows a lot about plants. But then, he knows a lot about most things, don't he, sir?"[[8]]