The "Elements of Geology" was finally published a few weeks before the Newcastle meeting, and the work of recasting the "Principles" went on at intervals in preparation for the sixth edition, which appeared in 1840. If, in accordance with the maxim, a nation is happy which has no history, Lyell ought to have passed almost a year in a state of felicity, for nothing is recorded between September 6th, 1838, when he writes to Charles Darwin from Kinnordy, and August 1st, 1839, when he writes to Dr. Fitton from the same place. Both these letters are interesting. The former discusses the relation of Darwin's theory of the formation of coral islands with E. de Beaumont's idea of the contemporaneity of parallel mountain chains, which has been already mentioned. One passage also throws light upon the difficulties with which the British Association in its earlier days had to contend. Some of the most influential newspapers had set themselves to write it down--needless to say, without success. Good sense sometimes is too strong even for newspapers. But Lyell thus urges Darwin[88]:-- "Do not let Broderip, or the _Times_ or the _Age_ or _John Bull_, nor any papers, whether of saints or sinners, induce you to join in running down the British Association. I do not mean to insinuate that you ever did so, but I have myself often seen its faults in a strong light, and am aware of what may be urged against philosophers turning public orators, etc. But I am convinced--although it is not the way I love to spend my own time--that in this country no importance is attached to any body of men who do not make occasional demonstrations of their strength in public meetings. It is a country where, as Tom Moore justly complained, a most exaggerated importance is attached to the faculty of thinking on your legs, and where, as Dan O'Connell very well knows, nothing is to be got in the way of homage or influence, or even a fair share of power, without agitation." Far-reaching words, the truth of which has been demonstrated again and again during the years which have elapsed since they were written. Lyell lays his finger on the weakest spot in the nature of the true-born Briton: he is deaf to quiet reasoning, and frightened by loud shoutings.