This fortunate accumulator of millions took very little from his hoards for the promotion of his personal ease and physical enjoyments.  He lived in a plain mansion, simply furnished, and standing in the midst of warehouses, where the din of business, the rolling of heavy wheels, and the city’s noisiest roar, constantly filled his ears.  His table was plentifully but not luxuriously supplied.  As he grew old it was extremely simple.  He gave no parties, invited none to share his hospitality, except now and then an individual from whom he had reason for believing he could extract information which would be useful to him.  He worked incessantly at his business, rising at three or four o’clock and toiling until after midnight.  His keen eye inspected every department of his complicated business, from the discounting of a note to the building of a ship or the erection of a building.  His only recreation was his garden, his farm at Passyunk, or the training of his birds.  His life was coined into work.  Its only real pleasure was derived from the accumulation of the money which was to make his name immortal.

In 1830 the sight of his eye grew so dim that it was both difficult and dangerous for him to grope his way along the familiar streets where he transacted business.  But so obstinately self-reliant was he that he refused the aid of an attendant.  He paid dearly for this obstinacy; for, one day as he was going home from his bank, he was knocked down by a wagon on a street-crossing.  A gentleman, seeing him fall, rushed to his assistance.  But before he could reach him the plucky old merchant was on his feet shouting, “Stop that fellow! stop that fellow!”

He was badly hurt.  Nevertheless, he persisted in walking home.  When his physician came his face was found to be seriously wounded.  His right ear was almost entirely cut off.  His eye was entirely closed.  His entire system had received a violent shock, from which it never recovered.  His wound healed, but from that time his body began to waste, his face grew thin, and his natural force began to abate.  His strength was sadly impaired, and when, in December, 1831, he was attacked by a prevailing influenza, his worn-out system succumbed.  The disease touched his powerful brain.  He became first insane and then insensible, until, on the 26th of December, 1831, this old man of eighty-two rose from his bed, walked across his chamber, returned almost immediately to his bed, and then, placing his hand upon his burning head, exclaimed: 

“How violent is this disorder!  How very extraordinary it is!”

After this he lapsed into an unconscious condition, and while in this state, his naked soul passed into the presence-chamber of that Infinite One whose worship it had neglected, and whose existence it had boldly denied.