WILLIAM G. STEVENSON. 75D 
‘¢turned the eye of reason inward upon itself, and tried 
to measure the value of his own beliefs,’ an idea became 
so dominant that the sense of hearing responded to its 
impression, as if a voice from without had called him 
‘to pursue the truth.’ In no way, however, did this 
simple and momentary hailucination interrupt the great 
work of his life, and in no lawful way can it be inter- 
preted as an expression of a morbid mind. 
That Goethe once saw his own counterpart approach 
him, I doubt not; but that this false perception, this 
passing incongruity—a mere incident of poetic revery 
when the mind, self-absorbed, wandered in its fancy— 
should be classed as evidence of a pathological condition, 
and made to bear witness against the healthfulness of 
Goethe’s mind, is an assumption extravagant and absurd. 
That Newton was once ‘‘ decidedly insane,’’ as some 
allege, is doubtful; and that he ever suffered from any 
mental disturbance which justifies the inference that his 
genius was ailied to madness, I hesitate not to deny. 
Mr. Sully says: ‘‘ The story of Newton’s madness, which 
is given bya French biographer, and which is ably re- 
futed by Sir David Brewster, may owe much of its 
piquancy to what may be called the unconscious invent- 
iveness of prejudice.” 
The facts, as I gather them, point to a congestion of 
the brain—which culminated in a brain-fever—-the re- 
sult of overwork under unfavorable hygienic conditions. 
Newton himself refers to his illness in a letter to Mr. 
Pepys, and again in a letter to Locke, wherein he men- 
tions his loss of memory, and his sleepless nights. It is 
not strange that his illness should excite the fears of his 
friends, not only for his physical but for his future 
mental health. Mr. Pepys expressed his anxiety to Mr. 
Millington, who replied that he had recently seen New- 
ton, who was then well, and that, although his illness 
had caused ‘‘ some small degree of melancholy, there is 
