192 Ikinos of tbe 1Rofc, IRtfle, ant> Gun 



" One day Professor Wilson was late in appearing ; 

 perhaps ten or twelve minutes after the class hour an 

 unusual thing with him, for he was punctual. We had 

 seen him go into his private room. We got uneasy, and 

 at last it was proposed that I should go in, and see what 

 it was that detained him. To my latest hour I will 

 remember the sight I saw on entering. Having knocked 

 and received no answer, I gently opened the door, and 

 there I found the Professor lying at full length on the 

 floor with his gown on. Instinctively I rubbed his head, 

 and raised it up, kneeling with the noble head resting on 

 my breast. I could not, of course, move. But in a few 

 minutes in came other students, wondering in turn what 

 was keeping me, and we together raised the Professor up 

 into his chair. I caught the words, ' God bless you ! ' 

 Gradually he got better, and we forced him to sit still, 

 and never dream of lecturing that day or for a time. 

 He was very reluctant to consent. I remember too 

 we spoke of calling a cab, but he said ' No/ it would 

 shake him too much. In about half an hour he walked 

 home. . . . 



Twice after this I saw him, at his own request, and 

 always on the subject of his lectures ; for he was bent on 

 what he called a * reconstruction ' of his theory for the 

 ensuing session ; while it was but too plain to those 

 around him that he was not likely to see the College 

 again. The old lion sat in his arm-chair, yellow-maned 

 and toothless, prelecting with the old volubility and 

 eloquence, and with occasionally the former flash of the 

 bright blue eye, soon drooping into dulness again. I 

 still remember his tremulous 'God bless you!' as the 



