The above short sketch may serve to convey some idea of the rise and phenomenal development of bacteriology during the past sixty years. To record, even in outline, the individual triumphs of the various branches of this science would require volumes, whilst the astounding mass of work already accumulated by its devotees is but the earnest, the guarantee of yet greater achievements in the future. The progress which has been made in this brief period of time must not necessarily be expected to continue at this rapid rate; it may be that generations to come have yet the hardest and the longest tasks to accomplish; for in science, as in other walks of life, it is, as a rule, the easiest problems, which are first disposed of, and the farther we advance the more complicated, the more intricate become the questions to be attacked, the difficulties to be overcome. The late Queen's reign has bestowed a splendid legacy of bacteriological discoveries upon those who, in the future as in the present, must inevitably follow in the footsteps of those great and brilliant leaders of bacteriological science belonging to this auspicious era, Louis Pasteur and Robert Koch. WHAT WE BREATHE Few people realise that, with the advent of autumn, the great majority of the swarms of bacteria which have been circulating in the air during the hot summer months take their leave of us and disappear. Practically, however, we are all conscious of this fact, for we know what greater difficulties attend the keeping of food sweet and wholesome in the summer than are met with in the winter; bacteria, not unlike some other armies of occupation, securing a footing rather by their numbers at this season of the year, than by virtue of the superior strategy or, in other words, special attributes of their units. Bacterial operations are, however, distinctly favoured by the accident of temperature, the warmth of the summer encouraging their vitality and multiplication. When Pasteur first announced his conviction that the familiar phenomena of putrefaction and decay were due to minute living particles present in our surroundings, his sceptical critics sought to ridicule his conclusions by declaring that, were this the case, the air must of necessity be so heavily laden with living forms that we should be surrounded by a thick fog--"dense comme du fer." We do not now, forty years later, require to recite the exquisitely simple experiments which, whilst sufficiently establishing his theories, served to effectually suppress those of his opponents.