"GEORGE THE THIRD, by the Grace of God King of Great Britain, France, and Ireland, Defender of the Faith, etc., to all to whom these presents shall come, greeting. Whereas several of our loving subjects are desirous of forming a Public Institution for diffusing the knowledge and facilitating the general introduction of Useful Mechanical Inventions and Improvements; and for teaching, by Courses of Philosophical Lectures and Experiments, the Application of Science to the Common Purposes of Life, we do hereby give and grant"--multifarious things which need not here be quoted. Such are the opening words of the charter with which, a little more than a century ago, the Royal Institution of Great Britain came into existence and received its legal christening. If one reads on he finds that the things thus graciously "given and granted," despite all the official verbiage, amount to nothing more than royal sanction and approval, but doubtless that meant more in the way of assuring popular approval than might at first glimpse appear. So, too, of the list of earls, baronets, and the like, who appear as officers and managers of the undertaking, and who are described in the charter as "our right trusty and right well-beloved cousins," "our right trusty and well-beloved counsellors," and so on, in the skilfully graduated language of diplomacy. The institution that had the King for patron and such notables for officers seemed assured a bright career from the very beginning. In name and in personnel it had the flavor of aristocracy, a flavor that never palls on British palate. And right well the institution has fulfilled its promise, though in a far different way from what its originator and founder anticipated. Its originator and founder, I say, and say advisedly; for, of course, here, as always, there is one man who is the true heart and soul of the movement, one name that stands, in truth, for the whole project, and to which all the other names are mere appendages. You would never suspect which name it is, in the present case, from a study of the charter, for it appears well down the file of graded titles, after "cousins" and "counsellors" have had their day, and is noted simply as "our trusty and well-beloved Benjamin, Count of Rumford, of the Holy Roman Empire." Little as there is to signalize it in the charter, this is the name of the sole projector of the enterprise in its incipiency, of the projector of every detail, of the writer of the charter itself even. The establishment thus launched with royal title might with full propriety have been called, as indeed it sometimes is called, the Rumford Institution.