The death of a great master in scholarship is an event which invites those whose calling imposes upon them the duty of following, at however great a distance, along the path of advance in which he has led the way, to pause and recall with gratitude his tokens of command. A remarkably long life, passed, to all appearance, in good health and even fortune, and during the greater part of it with every circumstance to favour the vigorous development of his great gifts,—such was Madvig's allotted course, ending in a peaceful death on December 12, 1886. So long a career bridges over the interval between the learning of the beginning and that of the end of the nineteenth century. The two periods have different characteristics. Madvig's mind was, if ever there was one, a mind independent of its surroundings. But in examining the character of his work we shall probably be led to confess that he belonged on the whole to the earlier rather than to the late period; that his strength lay rather in power of combination, in massive penetrating intelligence, and inexorable logical acumen, than in the patient inexhaustible industry, spending itself on the collection of facts, with which we are familiar as the main literary feature of our own time.