Iv 



followed by a second, with his name, in 1862. These volumes 

 contain little that is actually new to professed psychologists ; but 

 they are the conclusions of one who had thought and worked 

 variously, consistently, practically. Living not in the closet, but 

 hearing the opinions of every party and of every kind of men 

 liberal in all his views without prejudice, and ever open to con- 

 viction, yet tinged with a general dislike to change as such, he tells 

 in these volumes what he had concluded concerning the mind of man 

 its laws, its discipline, its future state. They therefore who value 

 such a character will prize these writings for qualities other than 

 the novelties they may contain. It will be remembered that the 

 scientific inquiries of his early life related to the influence of the 

 nervous system on certain parts of the animal economy. To the 

 ordinary physiologist this may be a purely material question ; to 

 him it was not so. In middle life he said to a friend, speaking of his 

 lectures on the Comparative Anatomy of the Brain, " the complexity 

 of the mechanism of the higher brains is enough to make one giddy 

 to think of it." A fortnight before his death he talked to the same 

 person of this mysterious link between our consciousness and our 

 visible material organization, descanting with keen interest on the 

 relations between mind and body, and the mutual reactions of one 

 on the other. As he then lay on his sofa almost for the last time, 

 in great pain, having scarce for many months seen the outer world 

 which had been so much to him, and to which he had been so much, 

 he spoke freely of our ignorance as to many things which it would be 

 a joy to know of the existence of evil of the too little attention 

 which philosophers had paid to the terrible nature of physical pain 

 of the future state. So gathering up the teachings of his useful 

 life, and still, as ever, looking forward, he waited its close. Not 

 many days after this he breathed his last, at Broome Park, on 

 October 21, 1862, in possession of the full calm power of his dis- 

 ciplined mind to within a few hours of his death. 



Such was our late President. They who knew and honoured him 

 may excuse, while they accept, a delineation too feeble for so com- 

 plete a man. In the quality of his mind he was not unlike the 

 most eminent of his contemporaries, Arthur Duke of Wellington. 

 Those who did not know him, and who do not appreciate the 

 power requisite to make such a master in medicine as he was, may 



