ulty was a lung complaint, or asthma; but
his biographer says: "It occasioned disturbance to no person but
himself, and persons might be with him without any other concern than
that created by seeing him suffer." Notwithstanding this permanent
suffering, his works are alike laborious and voluminous.

Robert Hall, in the period when his intellectual power was most
vigorous, pursued his daily studies almost regardless of the pain which
was his companion through life. Dr. Gregory pursued a course of study
with him in metaphysics and in mathematics; and he writes: "On entering
his room in the morning, I could at once tell whether or not his night
had been refreshing; for if it had, I found him at the table, the books
to be studied ready, and a vacant chair set for me. If his night had
been restless, and the pain still continued, I found him lying on the
sofa, or, more frequently, upon three chairs, on which he could obtain
an easier position. At such seasons, scarcely ever did a complaint issue
from his lips; but, inviting me to take the sofa, our reading
commenced.... Sometimes, when he was suffering more than usual, he
proposed a walk in the fields, where, with the appropriate book as our
companion, we could pursue the subject. If _he_ was the preceptor, as
was commonly the case in these peripatetic lectures, he soon lost the
sense of pain, and nearly as soon escaped from our author, whoever he
might be, and expatiated at large upon some train of inquiry or
explication which our course of reading had suggested. As his thoughts
enkindled, both his steps and his words became quicker, until erelong it
was difficult to say whether the body or the mind were brought most upon
the stretch in keeping up with him."

Hannah More, who wrote many volumes, and accumulated a fortune of nearly
a hundred and fifty thousand dollars from them, was an invalid. In her
early life, as well as in her declining years, she was subject to
successive illnesses, which threw great impediments in the way of her
intellectual exertions. Morning headaches prevented her from rising
early. She used to say that her frequent attacks of illness were a great
blessing to her, independently of the prime benefit of cheapening life
and teaching patience; for they induced a habit of industry not natural
to her, and taught her to make the most of her _well_ days. She
laughingly added, it had taught her also to contrive employments for her
sick ones; that from habit