And then he inquired, whether we were not all much
taken by surprise at his having fainted? I replied,
that it was of no importance, being incidental to
the complaint from which he suffered. “True,
my brother,” said he; “it would be unimportant,
even though it should lead to what you most dread.”
“For you,” I rejoined, “it might
be a happy thing; but I should be the loser, who would
thereby be deprived of so great, so wise, and so steadfast
a friend, a friend whose place I should never see
supplied.” “It is very likely you
may not,” was his answer; “and be sure
that one thing which makes me somewhat anxious to
recover, and to delay my journey to that place, whither
I am already half-way gone, is the thought of the
loss both you and that poor man and woman there (referring
to his uncle and wife) must sustain; for I love them
with my whole heart, and I feel certain that they will
find it very hard to lose me. I should also
regret it on account of such as have, in my lifetime,
valued me, and whose conversation I should like to
have enjoyed a little longer; and I beseech you, my
brother, if I leave the world, to carry to them for
me an assurance of the esteem I entertained for them
to the last moment of my existence. My birth
was, moreover, scarcely to so little purpose but that,
had I lived, I might have done some service to the
public; but, however this may be, I am prepared to
submit to the will of God, when it shall please Him
to call me, being confident of enjoying the tranquillity
which you have foretold for me. As for you, my
friend, I feel sure that you are so wise, that you
will control your emotions, and submit to His divine
ordinance regarding me; and I beg of you to see that
that good man and woman do not mourn for my departure
unnecessarily.”
He proceeded to inquire how they behaved at present.
“Very well,” said I, “considering
the circumstances.” “Ah!”
he replied, “that is, so long as they do not
abandon all hope of me; but when that shall be the
case, you will have a hard task to support them.”
It was owing to his strong regard for his wife and
uncle that he studiously disguised from them his own
conviction as to the certainty of his end, and he prayed
me to do the same. When they were near him he
assumed an appearance of gaiety, and flattered them
with hopes. I then went to call them. They
came, wearing as composed an air as possible; and
when we four were together, he addressed us, with
an untroubled countenance, as follows: “Uncle
and wife, rest assured that no new attack of my disease,
or fresh doubt that I have as to my recovery, has
led me to take this step of communicating to you my
intentions, for, thank God, I feel very well and hopeful;
but taught by observation and experience the instability
of all human things, and even of the life to which
we are so much attached, and which is, nevertheless,
a mere bubble; and knowing, moreover, that my state
of health brings me more within the danger of death,