F. You certainly have received a reprimand, Tyndall; but the matter is over, and if you wish to accept the reproof, you will hear no more about it. T. But I do not wish to accept it. F. Then you know what the consequence of sending that letter will be? T. I do. F. They will dismiss you. T. I know it. F. Then send the letter! The letter was firm, but respectful; it acknowledged the justice of the censure, but expressed neither repentance nor regret. Faraday, in his gracious way, slightly altered a sentence or two to make it more respectful still. It was duly sent, and on the following day I entered the Institution with the conviction that my dismissal was there before me. Weeks, however, passed. At length the well-known envelope appeared, and I broke the seal, not doubting the contents. They were very different from what I expected. 'The Secretary of State for War has received Professor Tyndall's letter, and deems the explanation therein given perfectly satisfactory.' I have often wished for an opportunity of publicly acknowledging this liberal treatment, proving, as it did, that Lord Panmure could discern and make allowance for a good intention, though it involved an offence against routine. For many years subsequently it was my privilege to act under that excellent body, the Council for Military Education. On another occasion of this kind, having encouraged me in a somewhat hardy resolution I had formed, Faraday backed his encouragement by an illustration drawn from his own life. The subject will interest you, and it is so sure to be talked about in the world, that no avoidable harm can rise from its introduction here.