DEAR BRANDE,--I have been seeing our friend Faraday these two or three days, and been looking after his health. I trust he has no ailment more than rest of body and mind will get rid of. But rest is absolutely necessary for him. Indeed, I think it would be hardly prudent for him to lecture again for the present. He looks up to his work; but, in truth, he is not fit, and if he is pressed he will suddenly break down. When we meet, I will talk the matter over with you. Yours most sincerely, P. M. LATHAM. The advice was taken. He gave up nearly all research work, but tried to go on with Friday night discourses and afternoon lectures in 1840. Then came a more serious breakdown, and he rested for nearly four years, with the exception of the Christmas lectures in 1841 and a few Friday discourses in 1842 and 1843. This illness caused him great distress of mind, mainly due to an idea that the physicians did not understand his condition. When in this state he sometimes set down pencil notes on scraps of paper to relieve his feelings. One such is the following:-- Whereas, according to the declaration of that true man of the world Talleyrand, the use of language is to conceal the thoughts; this is to declare in the present instance, when I say I am not able to bear much talking, it means really, and without any mistake, or equivocation, or oblique meaning, or implication, or subterfuge, or omission, that I am not able; being at present rather weak in the head, and able to work no more. During these times of enforced idleness he used to amuse himself with games of skill, with paperwork, and with visits to the theatre and to the Zoological Gardens. Mrs. Faraday left the following note:-- Michael was one of the earliest members of the Zoological Society, and the Gardens were a great resource to him when overwrought and distressed in the head. The animals were a continual source of interest, and we, or rather I, used to talk of the time when we should be able to afford a house within _my_ walking distance of the entrance; for I much feared he could not continue to live in the Institution with the continual calls upon his time and thought; but he always shrank from the notion of living away from the R. I.