04 THE LATE PROFESSOR KDWARD FORBES. 



earliest lessons a place famous among nations. The summer course passed 

 off triumphantly; and many a student who may hereafter rise to eminence 

 must date the first kindling of the spark to that memorable occasion. The 

 winter session commenced, and all seemingly went Avell, for six days ; when 

 he begged the class to excuse him lecturing on the succeeding day, (Friday), 

 as he thought that by resting till Monday he would regain his strength ; but 

 he never entered his class room again. The writer can well remember the 

 feeble, wavering step of the once strong man, as he ascended the stairs to 

 the lecture room ; and the quivering of his lip, while a placid smile strove in 

 vain to conceal the pain i-aging within. He seemed a sudden wreck — a strong 

 frame reduced to a shadow, but retaining in its fragile crust a mind as pure 

 and undimmed as when a boy he first climbed Arthur Seat, or cast his 

 dredge into the Frith. The Monday arrived, but still he was too ill to venture 

 out; and many a gay face looked sad at the tale. Day by daj^ passed on, and 

 we, without, from feeling disappointed, began to dread. At length the 

 fatal day arrived. On Saturday, Nov. 18th, at 6 p. m., in the 39th year of his 

 age, his spirit passed calmly away. 



No man ever had a wider range of friendshij> than Forbes ; and few have 

 deserved it so well. One writer has aptly said of him : " The petty vanities 

 and heart-burnings which ai'e the besetting sins of men of science and men 

 of letters, had no hold upon his large and generous nature — he did not even 

 understand them in others. A thorough spirit of charity — a complete 

 toleration for everything but empiricism and pettiness — seemed to hide 

 from him all but the good and worthy points in his fellow men. If he ever 

 wronged a man, it was by making him fancy himself better than he was. 

 Worked to death, his time and his knowledge were at the disposal of all 

 comers ; and though his published works have been comparatively few, his 

 ideas have been like the grain of mustard seed in the parable. They have 

 grown into trees, and brought forth fruit an hundred-fold."* 



Others must write his biography, we but give a passing tribute f Of his 

 poetical compositions we can spare room for but one example. 



TO A STAR. 



A NIGHT sky overhead ; 



One solitary star, 

 Shining amid 

 A little cloud of blue, for dark clouds hid 

 Its sister sunlets. On its azure bed 

 It seemed a sun ; for there 

 No jealous planet shone, with which it to compare. 



• Literary Gazette. 



+ Dr. G. Wilson, the biographer of J. Reid and Cavendish, has undertalcen the task. 



