In 1845, he was appointed President of the British Association; and in
1848, of the Royal Astronomical Society. To his other honours was added
that of Chevalier of the Prussian order, "Pour la Merite," founded by
Frederick the Great, and bestowed at all times with a discrimination
which renders it a deeply-coveted distinction. Of the academies and
leading scientific institutions of the Continent and the United States,
he was also an honorary or corresponding member.

Besides his works on meteorology and physical geography, he published,
in 1867, an admirable little volume--"Familiar Lectures on Scientific
Subjects." In this he showed that he could write with as much ease and
intelligibility for the general public as for the higher order of
scientific inquirers. His style in this valuable manual of information
has a charm of its own, and entices the reader into the consideration of
subjects apparently abstruse. He is earned on from page to page without
any great mental effort, and finds himself rapidly mastering
difficulties which he had been accustomed to regard as insuperable.

Let us take the first lecture on "Volcanoes and Earthquakes," and obtain
a glimpse of Herschel's mode of treatment. He refers to the greater and
more permanent agencies which affect the configuration of our planet.
Everywhere, he says, and along every coast-line, we see the sea warring
against the land, and overcoming it; wearing it and eating it down, and
battering it to pieces; grinding those pieces to powder; carrying that
powder away, and spreading it out over its own bottom, by the continued
effect of the tides and currents. What a scene of continual activity is
presented by the chalk-cliffs of Old England! How they are worn, and
broken up, and fantastically sculptured by the influence of winds and
waters! Precipices cut down to the sea-beach, constantly hammered by the
waves, and constantly crumbling; the beach itself made of the flints
outstanding after the softer chalk has been ground down and washed
away; themselves grinding one another under the same ceaseless
discipline--first rounded into pebbles, then worn into sand, and then
carried further and further down the slope, to be replaced by fresh ones
from the same source. Here the likeness of an old Gothic cathedral, with
lofty arch, and shapely pinnacle; there the similitude of a mass of
medieval fortifications, with crumbling battlements and shattered
towers!

The same thing, the