128 ~ Life and Writings of Francis Huber. 
tion of having a portion of his sight restored by an operation on one 
of his eyes which appeared to be affected only by simple cataract; 
the other was blinded from gutta serena, which rendered it incu-— 
rable. 
Far be it from me, nevertheless, to attach too high a value pete 
compensations which he himself found in his infirmity, and for not 
having put into requisition the nobility and courage of his philosophy. 
He never was the first to speak of his misfortune, and was disposed 
to avoid the idea of it. He never complained, and his strong and 
enlightened mind ranked courage and resignation, and m_ 
among his primary duties. 
His conversation was generally amiable and gracious ; he was ea- 
sily led into the humorous; he was a stranger to no kind of knowl- 
edge ; he loved to elevate his thoughts to the gravest and most im- 
portant subjects, as well as to descend to the most familiar sportive- 
ness. He was not learned in the ordinary sense of the word, but 
like a skilful diver, he went to the bottom of each question by a kind 
of tact and a sagacity of perception, which supplied the placeof 
knowledge. When any one spoke to him on subjects which inter- 
ested his head or heart, his noble figure became strikingly animated, 
and the vivacity of his countenance seemed, by a mysterious magic, 
to animate even his eyes which had so long’ been condensed to dark- 
ness. ‘The sound of his voice had always something of the solemn. 
I now understand, said a man of wit to me one day, who had just 
seen him for the first time, I understand how young people willingly 
grant to the blind, the reputation of supernatural inspiration. 
Huber spent the last years of his life at Lausanne, under the care 
of his daughter, Madame de Molin. He continued to make addi- 
tions, at intervals, to his former labors. The discovery of bees with- 
out stings, made in the environs of Tampico, by Capt. Hall, excited 
his curiosity, and it was a high satisfaction to him when his friend 
Prof. Prevost procured for him, at first a few individuals, and then 
a hive of these insects. It was the last homage which he rendered 
to his old friends, to whom he had devoted so many laborious Te 
searches, to whom he owed his celebrity, and what is more, his hap- 
piness. Nothing of any importance has been added to their history; 
since his time. Naturalists of unimpaired vision have found nothing 
of consequence to subjoin to the observations of a brother _— was 
deprived of sight. 
