There is a plague in the air delighting to walk in darkness [he wrote towards the end of 1891], and laying our stalwart men prostrate with a touch. It wears an Italian name, influenza, but seemingly puts forth its full vigour in a Scottish climate. Our breezy crescent here with its large outlook has not escaped the infection; my dear wife lies chained to her bed in the warm room close to the dining-room, and being under medical direction, can allow herself no freedom, as symptoms of pleuro – pneumonia have revealed themselves, which require to be carefully watched and wisely tended. As for myself, I have hitherto escaped the grasp of the fiend, for which God be thanked, and am jumping about in my usual style from east to west and from west to east, preaching the catholic gospel of philosophy, piety, poetry, and patriotism. I have sent out my first holder of the Greek Travelling Scholarship to Athens. I am happy to find my views on the study of Greek as a living language advocated by influential men in high quarters.