1 85 7. TEMPORARY REST. 309 



" I don't preach to you. People do to me, and the very 

 next moment ask me to do what they preached against. I 

 am looked upon as good as mad, because on hasty notice I 

 took a defaulting lecturer's place at the Philosophical Insti- 

 tution, and discoursed on polarization of light. You will 

 understand why I did. I was wearying of mere teaching, 

 and wanted to grapple again with a difficult subject, which 

 in 1842 I had studied with some fulness, and at intervals 

 had worked at since, but never so fully as for the sake of 

 my new lectures I wished to do. So I had a wrestle with it, 

 and we finally tried strength against each other in the Music 

 Hall, and though I was not unbruised, nor in all things 

 victor, they gave me by acclamation the crown ; mentally I 

 was much the robuster of this struggle, but not physically. 

 To be well enough to work is enough, but to cough half 

 through the wakeful night, and awake to find your hand- 

 kerchief spotted with blood, is not encouraging. Yet I 

 have got through the winter better than usual, and am still 

 wonderfully well. I have resolutely declined all fresh de- 

 mands, and am hoping for a little rest." Three weeks later 

 he writes from Bridge of Allan : " I fled hither a week ago, 

 driven by east wind, cough, and other ailments, and have 

 been leading a dog's life for the last two or three days, 

 i.e. eating, sleeping, and drinking, much to my better- 

 ment." 



" May I, 1857. 



" MY DEAR MOTHER, 



" ' How doth the little busy bee 

 Improve each shining hour, 

 And gather honey all the day, 

 From every opening flower.' 



"Jessie and I seek to make these remarkable lines our 

 motto, but are a little hindered in our laudable object, be- 



