GROWTH AND DECAY OF MIND. 343 



to revert to the thoughts and impressions of former years, which is 

 probably dependent on the processes by which the substance of the 

 brain is undergoing decay. The more recent formations are the first, 

 as we have seen, to crumble away, and the process not only brings to 

 the surface, if we may so speak, the earlier formations — that is, the 

 material records of earlier mental processes — but would appear to 

 bring those parts of the cerebrum into renewed activity. Thus, as 

 death draws near, men " babble of green fields," as has been beautifully 

 said, though not by Shakespeare, of old Jack Falstaff. Or less pleasant 

 associations may be aroused, as we see in Mrs. Grandmother Small- 

 weed, when " with such infantine graces as a total want of observation, 

 memory, understanding, and intellect, and an eternal disposition to 

 fall asleep over the fire and into it," she " whiled away the rosy hours " 

 with continual allusions to money. 



The recollections aroused at the moment of death are sometimes 

 singularly affecting. None can read without emotion the last scenes 

 of the life of Colonel Newcome. I say the last scenes, not the last 

 scene only, though that is the most beautiful of all. Every one 

 knows those last pages by heart, yet I cannot forbear quoting a few 

 sentences from them. '" Father!' cries Clive, 'do you remember 

 Orme's " History of India ? " ' ' Orme's History, of course I do ; I could 

 repeat whole pages of it when I was a boy,' says the old man, and be- 

 gan forthwith: " ' The two battalions advanced against each other 

 cannonading, until the French, coming to a hollow way, imagined the 

 English would not venture to pass it. But Major Lawrence ordered 

 the sepoys and artillery — the sepoys and artillery to halt, and defend 

 the convoy against the Morattoes.' Morattoes, Orme calls them. 

 Ho ! ho ! I could repeat whole pages, sir.' " Later, " Thomas New- 

 come began to wander more and more. He talked louder ; he gave 

 the word of command, and spoke Hindoostanee, as if to his men. Then 

 he spoke words in French rapidly, seizing a hand which was near him, 

 and crying, ' Toujours, toujours.' But it was Ethel's hand which he 

 took. . . . Some time afterward, Ethel came in with a scared face to 

 our pale group. ' He is calling for you again, dear lady,' she said, 

 going up to Madame de Florae, who was still kneeling. 'And just 

 now he said he wanted Pendennis to take care of his boy. He will not 

 know you.' She hid her tears as she spoke. She went into the room, 

 where Clive was at the bed's foot ; the old man within it talked on rap- 

 idly for awhile ; then again he would sigh and be still : once more I 

 heard him say hurriedly, ' Take care of him when I'm in India,' and 

 then with a heart-rending voice he called out, ' Leonore, Lconore ! ' She 

 was kneeling at his side now. The patient's voice sank into faint mur- 

 murs ; only a moan now and then announced that he was not asleep. 

 At the usual evening hour the chapel-bell began to toll, and Thomas 

 Newcome's hands outside the bed feebly beat time. And, just as the 

 last bell struck, a peculiar, sweet smile shone over his face, and he 



