was filled with the image of Eand partook of the tranquillity and pensiveness of its guest.

I scarce know how it was, but with all my admiration of Mr E-, I suffered the month of May to approach its close before I again encountered him. It was partly owing to a sudden increase of business, created by a raging scarlet fever— and partly occasioned by illness in my own family. I often thought and talked, however, of the philosopher, for that was the name he went by with Dr D and myself. Mr E had invited us both to take

an old-fashioned friendly cup of tea" with him; and accordingly, about six o'clock, we found ourselves driving down to his house. On our way, Dr D told me that our friend had been a widower nearly five years; and that the loss, somewhat sudden, of his amiable and accomplished wife, had worked a great change in him, by divesting him of nearly all interest in life or its concerns. He pursued even his philosophical occupations with languor, more from a kind of habit than inclination. Still he retained the same evenness and cheerfulness which had distinguished him through life. But the blow had been struck which severed him from the world's joys and engagements. He might be compared to a great tree torn up by the root, and laid prostrate by a storm, yet which dies not all at once. The sap is not instantaneously dried up; but for weeks, or even months, you may see the smaller branches still shooting unconsciously into short-lived existence, all fresh and tender from the womb of their dead mother; and a rich green mantle of leaves long concealing from view the poor fallen trunk beneath. Such was the pensive turn my thoughts had taken by the time we had reached Mr E's door. It was a fine summer evening-the hour of calm excitement. The old-fashioned window panes of the house we had stopped at, shone like small specks of fire, in the steady slanting rays of the retiring sun. It was the first house of a very respectable antique-looking row, in the suburbs of London, which had been built in the days of Henry the Eighth.

Three stately poplars stood sentries before the gateway.

"Well, here we are at last, at Plato's Porch, as I've christened it," said Dr D—, knocking at the door. On entering the parlour, a large oldfashioned room, furnished with the utmost simplicity, consistent with comfort, we found Mr E― sitting near the window, reading. He was in a brown dressing-gown, and study cap.

He rose and welcomed us cheerfully. "I have been looking into La Place," said he, in the first pause which ensued, "and a little before your arrival, had flattered myself that I had detected some erroneous calculations; and only look at the quantity of evidence that was necessary to convince that I was a simpleton by the side of La Place!" pointing to two or three sheets of paper crammed with small algebraical characters in pencil-a fearful array of symbols-"✔ 3 a2,

12

z 2

ם

+ 9 − n = 9; n × log. e”— and sines, co-sines, series, &c. &c. without end. I had the curiosity to take up the volume in question, while he was speaking to Dr Dand noticed on the fly leaf the autograph of the Marquis La Place, who had sent his work to Mr E. Tea was presently brought in; and as soon as the plain old-fashioned china, &c. &c., had been laid on the table by the man-servant, himself a knowing old fellow as I ever saw in my life, Miss E, the philosopher's niece, made her appearance, an elegant unaffected girl, with the same style of features as her uncle. "I can give a shrewd guess at your thoughts, Dr said Mr E, smiling, as he caught my eye following the movements of the man-servant till he left the room."You fancy my keeping a man-servant to wait at table does not tally very well with what I said the last time I had the pleasure of seeing you."

"Oh dear, I'm sure you're mistaken, Mr E-! I was struck with the singularity of his countenance and manners-those of a stanch old family servant."

Ah, Joseph is a vast favourite with my uncle," said Miss E"I can assure you, and fancies him

self nearly as great a man as his master."-"Why, as far as the pratique of the laboratory is concerned, I doubt if his superior is to be found in London. He knows it, and all my ways, as well as he knows the palm of his own hand! He has the neatest way in the world of making hydrogen gas, and, what is more, found it out himself," said Mr E, explaining the process; " and then he is a miracle of cleanliness and care! He has not cost me ten shillings in breakage since I knew him. He moves among my brittle wares, like a cat on a glass wall."

"And then he writes and reads for my uncle-does all the minor work of the laboratory-goes on errands-waits at table-in short, he's quite invaluable," said Miss E"Quite a factotum, I protest," exclaimed Dr D.

"You'd lose your better half then, if he were to die, I suppose?" said I quickly.

"No! that can happen but once," replied Mr E- with a sigh, alluding to the death of his wife. Conversation flagged for a moment. "You've forgotten," at length said E-, breaking the melancholy pause, "the very chiefest of poor Joseph's accomplishments-what an admirable, unwearied nurse he is to me." At that moment Joseph entered the room, with a note in his hand, which he gave to Mr E. I guessed where it came from-for happening a few moments before to cast my eye to the window, I saw a footman walking up to the door; and there was no mistaking the gorgeous scarlet liveries of the Duke of E-, after glancing over the letter, begged us to excuse him for a minute or two, as the man was waiting for an answer.

as soon as E

"You, of course, knew what my uncle alluded to," said Miss E, addressing Dr D in a low tone, had closed the door after him, "when he spoke of Joseph's being a nurse-don't you ?” Dr D nodded. "My poor uncle," she continued, addressing me," has been for nearly twenty-five years afflicted with a dreadful disease in the spine; and during all that time has suffered a perfect martyrdom from it.

He could not stand straight up, if it were to save his life; and he is

obliged to sleep in a bed of a very curious description-the joint contrivance of himself and Joseph. He takes half an ounce of laudanum every night, at bed time, without which, the pains, which are always most excruciating at night time, would not suffer him to get a moment's sleep!-Oh, how often have I seen him rolling about on this carpet and hearth-rug-yes, even in the presence of visitors-in a perfect ecstasy of agony, and uttering the most heartbreaking groans."

"And I can add," said Dr D"that he is the most perfect Job-the most angelic sufferer, I ever saw!"

"Indeed, indeed, he is," rejoined Miss E, with emotion. "I can say, with perfect truth, that I never once heard him murmur or complain at his hard fate. When I have been expressing my sympathies, during the extremity of his anguish, he has gasped, Well, well, it_might have been worse!"-Miss Esuddenly raised her handkerchief to her eyes, for they were overflowing.

6

"Do you see that beautiful little picture hanging over the mantelpiece?" she enquired, after a pause, which neither Dr D nor I seemed inclined to interrupt-pointing to an exquisite oil painting of the crucifixion. "I have seen my poor uncle lying down on the floor, while in the most violent paroxysms of pain, and with his eyes fixed intensely on that picture, exclaim, Thine were greater-thine were greater!' And then he has presently clasped his hands upwards; a smile has beamed upon his pallid quivering features, and he has told me the pain was abated."

"I once was present during one of these painfully interesting scenes," said Dr D, "and have seen such a heavenly radiance on his countenance, as could not have been occasioned by the mere sudden cessation of the anguish he had been suffering."

"Does not this strange disorder abate with his encreasing years?" I enquired.

"Alas, no!" replied Miss E"but is, if possible, more frequent and severe in its seizures. Indeed, we all think it is wearing him out fast. But for the unwearied services of that faithful creature, Joseph, who

sleeps in the same room with him, my uncle must have died long ago!"

"How did this terrible disorder attack Mr E, and when ?" I enquired. I was informed that he himself originated the complaint with an injury he sustained when a very young man he was riding, one day, on horseback, and his horse suddenly reared backward, and Mr E's back came in violent contact with a plank, projecting from behind a cart loaded with timber. He was, besides, however, subject to a constitutional feebleness in the spine, derived from his father and grandfather. He had consulted almost every surgeon of eminence in England, and a few on the Continent; and spent a little fortune among thembut all had been in vain!

"Really, you will be quite surprised, Doctor," said Miss E- "to know, that though such a martyr to pain, and now in his 64th year, my uncle is more active in his habits, and regular in his hours, than I ever knew any one. He rises almost invariably at four o'clock in summer, and at six in winter;-and this, though so helpless, that without Joseph's assistance,he could not dress himself- ."—" Ah, by the way" -interrupted Dr D "that is an

-'s case;

other peculiarity in Mr Ehe is subject to a sort of nightly paralysis of the upper extremities, from which he does not completely recover, till he has been up for some two or three hours." How little had I thought of the under-current of agony, flowing incessantly beneath the calm surface of his cheerful and dignified demeanour! Oh, philosophy-Oh, Christian philosophy! --I had failed to detect any marks of suffering in his features, though I had now had two interviews with him-so completely, even hitherto, had "his unconquerable mind conquered the clay"- -as one of our old writers expresses it. If I had admired and respected him heretofore, on the ground of Dr D's opinion-how did I now feel disposed to adore him! I looked on him as an instance of long-tried heroism and fortitude, almost unparalleled in the history of man. Such thoughts were passing through my mind, when Mr E- re-entered the room. What I had heard, during his ab

sence, made me now look on him with tenfold interest. I wondered that I had overlooked his stoop-and the permanent print of pain on his pallid cheek. I gazed at him, in short, with feelings of sympathy and reverence, akin to those called forth by a picture of one of the ancient martyrs.

"I'm sorry to have been deprived of your company so long," said he; "but I have had to answer an invitation, and several questions besides, from I daresay you know whom?" addressing Dr D

"I can guess, on the principle ex ungue-the gaudy livery vaunts of royalty'-eh? Is it

"Yes. He has invited me to dine with Lord, Sir, and several other members of the Society, at this day week, but I have declined. At my time of life I can't stand late hours and excitement. Besides, one must learn betimes to wean from the world, or be suddenly snatched from it, screaming like a child," said Mr E- with an impressive air.

"I believe you are particularly intimate with ; at least I have heard so-Are you?" enquired Dr D—.

"No. I might possibly have been so, for has shewn great consideration towards me; but I can assure you, I am the sought, rather than the seeker, and have been all my life."

"It is often fatal to philosophical independence to approach too frequently, and too nearly, the magic circle of the court," said I.

"True. Science is, and should be, aspiring. So is the eagle; but the royal bird never approaches so near the sun, as to be drowned in its blaze. has been nothing since

he became a courtier."

* * *

"What do you think of's pretensions to science, generally, and his motives for seeking so anxiously the intimacy of the learned ?" enquired Dr Ď——.

"Why," replied E, with some hesitation; "'tis a wonderful thing for him to know even a fiftieth part of what he does. He is popufarly acquainted with the outlines of most of the leading sciences. He went through a regular course of readings with my friend --: but

he has not the time necessary to ensure a successful prosecution of science. It is, however, infinitely advantageous to science and literature, to have the willing and active patronage of royalty. I never knew him exhibit one trait of overbearing dogmatism; and that is saying much for one whom all flatter always. It has struck me, however, that he has rather too anxious an eye towards securing the character and applause of a MECENAS."

sent, when Dr these words to your

"Pray, Mr E, do you recollect mentioning to me an incident which occurred at a large dinner party given by when you were premade use of 'Does not think it possible for a man to pelt another with potatoes, to provoke him to fling peaches in return, for want of other missiles?'—and the furious answer was "We will drop that subject, if you please," said E- coldly, at the same time colouring, and giving my friend a peculiar monitory look.

and

"I know well, personally, that has done very many noble things in his day-most of them, comparatively, in secret; and one munificent action he has performed lately towards a man of scientific eminence, who has been as unfortunate as he is deserving, which will probably never come to the public ear, unless die suddenly," said Mr E. He had scarcely uttered these words, when he turned suddenly pale, laid down his tea-cup, with a quivering hand, and slipped slowly from his chair to the floor, where he lay at his full length, rolling to and fro, with his hands pressed upon the lower part of his spine-and all the while uttering deep sighs and groans. The big drops of perspiration, rolling from his forehead down his cheeks, evidenced the dreadful agony he was enduring. Dr D and I both knelt down on one knee by his side, proffering our assistance-but he entreated us to leave him to himself for a few moments, and he should soon be better.

"Emma!" he gasped, calling his niece-who, sobbing bitterly, was at his side in a moment-" kiss methat's a dear girl-and go up to bed -but, on your way, send Joseph

here directly." She retired, and in a few moments Joseph entered hastily, with a broad leathern band, which he drew round his master's waist and buckled tightly. He then pressed with both his hands for some time upon the immediate seat of the pain. Our situation was both embarrassing and distressing-both of us medical men, and yet compelled to stand by mere passive spectators of agonies we could neither alleviate

nor remove.

"Do you absolutely despair of discovering what the precise nature of this complaint is ?" I enquired in an under tone.

"Yes-in common with every one else that, has tried to discover it, but in vain. That it is an affection of the spinal chord, is clear; but what is the immediate exciting cause of these tremendous paroxysms I cannot conjecture," replied Dr D—,

"What have been the principal remedies resorted to ?"

"Oh, every thing-almost every thing that the wit of man could devise-local and general bleedings to a dreadful extent; irritations and counter-irritations without end; electricity-galvanism-all the resources of medicine and surgery have been ransacked to no purpose.

Look at him!" whispered Dr D," look-look;-do you see how his whole body is drawn together in a heap, while his limbs are quivering as though they would fall from him?-See-see-how they are now struck out, and plunging about, his hands clutching convulsively at the carpet-scarce a trace of humanity in his distorted features-as if this great and good man were the sport of a demon!"

"Oh! gracious God! Can we do nothing to help him ?" I enquired, suddenly approaching him, almost stifled with my emotions. Mr E did not seem conscious of our approach; but lay rather quieter, groaning"Oh-oh-oh-that it would please God to dismiss me from my sufferings!"

"My dear, dear Mr E-" exclaimed Dr D, excessively agitated, " can we do nothing for you? Can't we be of any service to you?"

cr

Oh, none-none-none !" he groaned, in tones expressive of utter hopelessness. For more than a quar

ter of an hour did this victim of disease continue writhing on the floor, and we standing by, physicians of no value!" The violence of the paroxysm abated at length, and again we stooped, for the purpose of raising him and carrying him to the sofa-but he motioned us off, exclaiming so faintly as to be almost inaudible-" No-no, thank you-l must not be moved for this hourand when I am, it must be to bed." "Then we will bid you good evening, and pray to God you may be better in the morning."-" Yesyes.-Better-better; good-good by," he muttered indistinctly.

"Master's falling asleep, gentlemen, as he always does after these fits," said Joseph, who had his arm round his suffering master's neck. We, of course, left immediately, and met Miss E- in the passage, muffled in her shawl, and sobbing as if she would break her heart.

Dr D told me, as we were walking home, that, about two years' ago, E made a week's stay with him; and that, on one occasion, he endured agonies of such horrible intensity, as nothing could abate, or in any measure alleviate, but two doses of laudanum, of nearly six drachms each, within half an hour of each other; and that even then he did not sleep for more than two hours. "When he awoke," continued my friend," he was lying on the sofa in a state of dreadful exhaustion, the perspiration running from him like water. I asked him if he did not sometimes yield to such thoughts as were suggested to Job by his impetuous friends-to curse God and die,'-to repine at the long and lingering tortures he had endured nearly all his life, for no apparent crime of his own?"

"No, no," he replied calmly; "I've suffered too long an apprenticeship to pain for that! I own I was at first a little disobedient-a little restive-but now I am learning resignation! Would not useless fretting serve to enhance-to aggravate my pains!"

"Well!" I exclaimed, "it puzzles my theology-if any thing could make me sceptical."-Esaw the train of my thoughts, and interrupted me, laying his white wasted hand

on mine-" I always strive to bear in mind that I am in the hands of a God as GOOD as great, and that I am not to doubt his goodness, because I cannot exactly see how he brings it about. Doubtless there are reasons for my suffering what I do, which, though at present incomprehensible to me, would appear abundantly satisfactory could I be made acquainted with them. Oh, Dr D- what would become of me," said Esolemnly," were I, instead of the rich consolations of religion, to have nothing to rely on but the disheartening speculations of infidelity!-If in this world only I have hope," he continued, looking steadfastly upwards, "I am, of all men, most miserable!"-Is not it dangerous to know such a man, lest one should feel inclined to fall down and worship him?" enquired my friend. Indeed I thought so. Surely E-was a miracle of patience and fortitude! and how he had contrived to make his splendid advancements in science, while subject to such almost unheard-of tortures, both as to duration and intensity-had devoted himself so successfully to the prosecution of studies requiring habits of long, patient, profound abstractionwas to me inconceivable.

How few of us are aware of what is suffered by those with whom we are most intimate! How few know the heavy counter-balancings of popularity and eminence; the exquisite agonies, whether physical or intellectual, inflicted by one irremoveable" thorn in the flesh!" Oh! the miseries of that eminence whose chief prerogative too often is

"Above the vulgar herd to rot in state!" How little had I thought, while gazing, at the rooms, on this admirable man, first fascinated with the placidity of his noble features, that I looked at one who had equal claims to the character of a MARTYR and a philosopher! How my own petty grievances dwindled away in comparison of those endured by E- ! How contemptible the pusillanimity I had often exhibited!

And do you, reader, who, if a man, are, perhaps, in the habit of cursing and blaspheming while smarting under the toothach, or any of those