178 Mi'. Colquhoun on the Life and Writings [March, 



lional design of escaping the inconveniences which attend too 

 numerous an association." Next follows an account of its con- 

 stitution, its meetings once a fortnight, the performing of new 

 experiments, the presentation of memoirs, the discussion of 

 their merits, the criticising the periodical journals of science, 

 See. After this we find a singularly beautiful and delicate pas- 

 sage from the hand of BerthoUet, in which he calmly contem- 

 plates at once his own approaching dissolution, and the con- 

 trasted view of the eternal duration and progress of knowledge. 

 To read it does honour to BerthoUet : its sentiment reflects 

 dignity on human nature. " He with whom originated the plan 

 of this Society," says he, " now feels as he beholds the end of 

 his career draw nigh, the sweet satisfaction of having thereby 

 contributed far more eflfectually to the advancement of those 

 sciences to which he has long devoted himself, than he could 

 have done by those works which he may yet be able to carry on 

 ere he die." 



So calm a resignation to meet without regret the dose of a 

 life which had been so rich in fame to himself, and in benefit to 

 his country, accompanied by so pure, so enthusiastic an attach- 

 ment to science, it is highly delightful, and it is eminently useful 

 to contemplate. After this it is severely painful to learn, that 

 the energy of this Society was soon paralyzed by an event which 

 embittered the latter days of the life of BerthoUet, even then, 

 when all seemed to promise it a quiet and a tranquil end. I'he 

 promising son of BerthoUet, in whom his happiness was 

 wrapped up, was unhappily subject to the fearful malady of 

 despondency, which at length grew upon him to such a degree 

 that neither the rank and fame of his father, nor the aii'ection of 

 4ns aged mother, nor the- respect of friends, nor the honours 

 which science seemed to hold out to his young years, could 

 prevent it from gaining a gloomy mastery over his soul. He 

 grew weary of his existerxe, and at length his life became 

 wholly unsupportable. Retiring to a small room, he locked the 

 xloor, closed up every chink and crevice which might admit tiie 

 air, carried writing materials to a table, on which he placed a 

 second watch, and then seated himself before it. He now 

 marked precisely the hour, and hghted a brazier of charcoal 

 beside him. He continued to note down the series of sensations 

 he then experienced in succession, detailing the approach and 

 the rapid progress of delirium, until, as tune went on, the writing 

 became confused and illegible, and the young victim dropped 

 dead upon the floor ! 



After this event, the spirits of the old man never again rose, 

 for the spring of his hope was broken, and the stay of his age 

 was gone. Occasionally some discovery, extending flie limits 

 of his favourite science, engrossed his interest and attention for 



