pour se défendre légitimement, comme la mauvaise philosophie du 18me siècle s'est entendue pour attaquer? Le temps est venu de chercher nos ressemblances plus que nos différences. Vous verrez comme dans mon Rapport je parle de la philosophie Ecossaise. Peu-à-peu je me dégage davantage de la philosophie Allemande, et je m'enfonce de plus en plus dans la psychologie. Vous, raccommodez-vous un peu avec l'eclecticisme, comme méthode historique. Enfin, aimons et servons la philosophie selon nos convictions, qui sans se confondre peuvent se rapprocher. Surtout, écrivez-moi par la poste, et donnez-moi de longs détails sur l'état de la philosophie dans cette Ecosse que j'aime infiniment et que je voudrais bien voir.

CHAPTER VIII.

ILLNESS, AND LAST YEARS OF LIFE: 1844-1856.

ILLNESS-DR MACLAGAN'S NOTES-EFFECT ON HIS HEALTH-MIND UNIMPAIRED-SOLICITUDE OF HIS FRIENDS-CONDUCT UNDER HIS ILLNESS-APPLICATION FOR A PENSION-AND RESULT-COMPLETION OF REID'S WORKS CONTEMPLATED WORKS ON LOGIC AND LUTHER CORRESPONDENCE WITH DR CAIRNS DOMESTIC LIFE AND HABITSMR BAYNES'S REMINISCENCES OF CONVERSATIONS-LETTERS TO LIEUTENANT HAMILTON IN INDIA — - RESEARCHES IN CONNECTION WITH LUTHER-THE DISCUSSIONS-LETTERS RELATIVE TO THEM-TESTS IN THE SCOTTISH UNIVERSITIES VISITS OF STRANGERS EDITING OF STEWART'S WORKS-LETTERS FROM HOME-LAST ILLNESS-GENERAL REMARKS.

IN July 1844, without any premonitory symptoms, Sir William was struck down by paralysis. During the immediately preceding year he had been working very hard,-first on his edition of Reid's Works, and then on the course of inquiry, opened up by his interest in the Disruption, into the original constitution of the Scottish Church. This latter subject had led him into an investigation about the Books of Discipline, the results of which are recorded in a large body of manuscripts. Through his absorption in these occupations his usual late hours of study were at this period protracted, so that it was not uncommon for him to be going to bed when other people were about to rise. There can be little doubt that this imprudent disregard of the laws of health had much to do in bringing on the paralytic attack.

The following account of the illness is furnished by Dr. Douglas Maclagan, Sir William's medical attendant:

"I wish that I could comply in a more satisfactory manner with the request made to me that I would give some account of Sir William Hamilton's illness in 1844, but the unfortunate loss of a note - book compels me to write from memory, and prevents me from furnishing some particulars which I would like to give. It is, however, not requisite to give a clinical history of the case, which would have no interest for any but medical readers, and my recollection of the salient points is sufficiently vivid to enable me to state them accurately.

"Sir William's illness, as is well known, was an attack of paralysis (in technical language, hemiplegia) of the right side. The seizure was sudden and severe. Not merely were the arm and leg paralysed, and the muscles of the tongue so much affected that speech was rendered extremely difficult, but the power of swallowing was so completely lost that I had for three or four days to feed him with the stomach-pump. This piece of practice was suggested by himself, specially with a view to relieving the thirst from which he suffered. He was well aware of the fact that thirst can be relieved by fluids being introduced into the stomach though they do not touch the mouth and throat to which the sensation is referred.

"The marked feature in the case was the retention by him of his mental faculties. Such paralytic attacks are sometimes by non-professional people erroneously called apoplectic, but the true characteristic of apoplexy-the loss of consciousness -was entirely awanting here. The gigantic intellect of the man was at work throughout the whole illness, and made itself manifest in a striking manner on the day after his seizure. He had been thinking over the phenomena of his own case, and making a physiological study of himself. The difficulty of articulation, of which he was painfully conscious, had evidently been uppermost in his mind, and

upon this subject he began to question me, or rather to discourse to me, on the occasion referred to. He spoke of the views of Sir Charles Bell and other modern physiologists, and referred to a paper in the transactions of one of the older scientific academies-Belgian, according to my recollectionin which was enunciated the connection of the ninth pair of nerves with the movements of the tongue,-a subject on which he had himself written. Of this old memoir, whatever it was, I never had heard, nor can I now guess what it was. The fact in question was known to men of science long before the time of those modern inquiries which have given so much precision to our knowledge of the nervous system, and may readily have been noticed in some early scientific writing, which none but a person of Sir William's extensive reading was likely to know or remember. The interest which attaches to his quoting it lies in the evidence which was thus afforded of the integrity of his intellectual powers under this severe illness. I need not say that all exertion on his part, either of mind or muscle, was discouraged in the strongest possible manner, both by myself and by Dr Davidson, who saw him in consultation with me. But though Sir William was an excellent patient, so far as submission to medical treatment was concerned, it was not easy to obtain compliance with our injunction regarding mental exertion. I was particularly struck with the eagerness with which he entered upon this physiological topic, and questioned me with regard to theoretical points involved in his own case—an eagerness intensified no doubt in appearance by the efforts which he required to make to overcome the difficulty of articulation. His recovery from the primary dangers of the attack was steady and satisfactory, but the injury done to the brain was so considerable that he never completely regained the power of the paralysed limbs."

The stroke was sudden, and heavy to bear. He was yet in his prime, and up to the day of his seizure had been active and athletic beyond most men. The illness which followed was

tedious; and it left him broken in health and vigour. His intellect, however, was entire, active, and acute as before; and his wonderful memory remained unimpaired. He himself, indeed, considered that his memory was even better and more reliable after his illness than before,-that he could now more securely trust to it in making quotations; an improvement for which he accounted by his being liable to fewer outward distractions than formerly. But the body had suffered severely. The right hand was powerless, the right leg impaired, and the articulation was often indistinct,-in a word, there was much physical weakness, which made all bodily exertion laborious and painful. His vision also was affected. Though there was, strictly speaking, no failure of eyesight, there was an appearance of motion in small objects before the eye, which was very unpleasant, and compelled him when reading to use an obscured right eye in his spectacles. Still he carried on his congenial work; brought out his edition of Reid's Works, and republished with additions his articles in the Edinburgh Review.' He also during the College session, with the exception of that of 1844-45, appeared regularly in his class-room, read a portion of the hour's lecture, having an assistant who read the remainder.

As might have been looked for from the nature of the illness, there was a good deal of nervous feeling, especially in walking; and his early friends noted that he had now a tendency to irritability and occasional warmth and vehemence of temper in a degree which they had not before observed.

His illness served to show the intensity of affection with which he was regarded. During the night that followed the seizure, and before it was known whether the sufferer would rally, the greatest solicitude was felt by his friends on the spot. One of them, with a loyalty of affection which is honourable to both, might have been seen pacing to and fro on the street opposite the bedroom window of the invalid, during the whole of the long anxious night, watching for indications of his condition, yet unwilling to intrude on the attendants,