appreciation of literature in all its higher forms, as fresh as that of a youth in the first flush of his studies, and a more delightful companion therefore could not be imagined. There are those who along with me, I am sure, can never forget the pleasantness of those early years in St Andrews, when our friend was still in vigorous health, and eager to encounter any disputant in his favourite subjects. The playful humour which he mingled with the most abstract discussions, the heights of metaphysical argument which he scaled so easily, and in the rare atmosphere of which he was able to sustain himself longer than any other disputant I ever knew, his genial and frank bearing, and the welcome and fairness of spirit with which he always met opposition, gave a great attraction to his conversation.
"Life in his study was Professor Ferrier's characteristic life. There have been, I daresay, even in our time, harder students than he was; but there could scarcely be any one who was more habitually a student, who lived more amongst books, and took a more special and constant delight in intercourse with them. In his very extensive but choice library he knew every book by head-mark, as he would say, and could lay his hands upon the desired volume at once. It was a great pleasure to him to bring to the light from an obscure corner some comparatively unknown English speculator of whom the University Library knew nothing.
"During the summer of 1863, the last of which he
