The hysterical scream which so strongly affects other women is a forcible instance of the power of sound, whose limits are, as yet, imperfectly explored. The tones of a great actor or orator may thrill the whole being. An unemotional elderly gentleman told me years ago, that he was haunted by the recollection of the resonance of Pitt's voice when speaking of some event (I forget what it was) that gave him a " pang." There are many kinds of shrieks of a blood-curdling nature, of which that of a wounded horse on a battlefield is said to be one.
King's College.-After a brief vacation I was sent, again through Mr. Hodgson's ever active interest, for a year to King's College and to live as an inmate of the house of Professor Richard Partridge (1,905-1873), together with four * or five other pupils. His house was in New Street, Spring Gardens, now demolished through the extension of the ' Admiralty Buildings and the newly constructed entrance from Charing Cross into St. James's Park. My social surroundings were of a far higher order than those at Birmingham, and I rejoiced in them. Professor Partridge was, at that time, a brilliant man of about thirty-four years of age, yellow-haired, full of humour and of quips, as well as of shrewdness and kindliness; his intimate friends were all growing into distinction. He had known Charles Lamb well, and the genius of Elia seemed to haunt the house, though Charles Lamb had died four or five years before. I listened with admiration to the brilliant talk and repartees when Partridge had his bachelor dinners with fellow-cronies as guests. They included G. Dasent, later Sir George, the author and