But on July 11 he was stricken down by hemiplegia. And now began the last year of patient endurance, for from that time the Shadow of Death was ever on him, and he knew it; from that July day he regarded himself as doomed. Sometimes the thought of leaving those whom he loved with such intense devotion, such wonderful tenderness, overwhelmed him; sometimes the longing to finish his work was too great to be borne, but generally he was calm, and always, even when he was most sad, he was gentle and patient, and willing to be amused.
On July 13 Dr. Paget gave him the Holy Communion.
He slowly recovered from this attack, and there were hopes—not of perfect health, but of life, and of power to work. Now, more resolutely than ever, he set himself to face the ultimate problems of Life and Being, to face the question of the possibility of a return to Faith.
It is impossible here to tell of the inner workings of that pure and unselfish soul, of those longings and searchings after God, of the gradual growth in steadfast endurance, in faith.
To one or two these are known, and the example of lofty patience and of single-heartedness is not one they are likely to forget. Of this more later.
It was almost pathetic to see how keen and vigorous his intellect was. In fact, the great difficulty was to keep the busy brain from thinking. Novels helped to some degree, and occasional visits from friends as he grew better. Dr. and Mrs. Burdon Sanderson, the President of Trinity and Mrs. Woods, the Dean, Mr. Gore, the President of Magdalen and Mrs. Warren, and Mr. Waggett, all helped, coming and paying brief visits, which did him good, for if he was not listening to reading or conversation, he would be planning experiments or pondering problems of theology, and ask by-and-by that his thoughts should be taken down from dictation, or that paper and pencil should be given him, or, worse than all, devising arrangements for finishing 'Darwin, and after Darwin.' He dictated some 'Thoughts on Things' in the very first days of his illness, and sent for Professor Lloyd Morgan, who came and received instructions about the unfinished books, instructions which he has carried out with unflagging diligence and never-failing kindness.
But still he grew better, and early in August he went back to Oxford, and by the first of September he was able to be present in the cathedral at the baptism by Dr. Talbot of his youngest son.
The fact that the Vicar of Leeds[116] and Mrs. Talbot were in Oxford during that August was a great pleasure to him, and he much enjoyed occasional talks with Dr. Talbot.
To Professor Ewart.
I do not know what account E. gave you of my illness, but it is much too serious an affair to admit of our going to the British Association. Indeed, I hardly anticipate being able to make any engagements or do much work during the rest of my life, which is not likely to be a long one. It is just such an attack as I expected when walking with you over Magdalen Bridge.[117]