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all the good it ought to produce, yet I humbly trust it has not been sent altogether in vain. The great error is, that as we get better, and the discipline becomes lighter, the impression is too apt to wear off. I trust it will not, now, do so altogether; but I know and feel the danger; and would infinitely rather suffer again, than that I should lose the important lesson.”
In the same letter, having mentioned Dr. Drake's publications, “Winter Evenings,” and “Evenings in Autumn,” he remarks—“Two more seasons remain for him.--The grand point is, to have the life close well at last! But the last may be nearer than we expect: and hence he only can hope, and hope humbly too, who endeavours to improve every season and every hour.
Carpe diem quam minime credula postero,'—is a noble motto at all times; but how truly ennobled when raised from the dust of paganism into the sublimer atmosphere of revealed religion."
Writing to Dr. Drake, to thank him for the same books, May 5th, 1822, after speaking with much pleasure of the moral and devotional spirit which pervades some of the papers, he proceeds—“These latter feelings and subjects are as they should be: and I am exceedingly rejoiced to behold your views so consonant with my own. The great objects for which we were sent into the world, and the great duties we have to perform here, are too apt to be forgotten in the hey-day, and amidst the distractions, of youth; though there is no period in which the heart' requires to be 'kept with so much diligence:' but happy is he who is led to take a correct view of himself in time, and who grows sober in the sober · Evenings of Autumn,' rightly estimating
the world, duly prizing the means of grace which the bible unfolds to him, and preparing himself for another and a better state of being. I lament greatly the spirit of atheism which is abroad, and especially among the professors and practitioners of medicine; and I am glad to see you taking a stand against the unholy tribe of scoffers."
In another letter to the same, dated August 21st, 1822, after speaking of “gout, and dyspepsy, and headache, and feverish nights,” which he imputes to the labour and confinement occasioned by his “Study of Medicine,” he says—“On Friday I purpose to set off for Matlock, with my dear wife and daughter, for about ten days, for the purpose of recreation. You, I apprehend, are still as busy as ever, and will no doubt travel farther in your easy chair, and probably over still more picturesque and romantic landscapes, than we shall do in our chariot. May you never travel over any but may administer to you solid delight and satisfaction,tranquillizing or elevating the animal spirits, and reading a useful lesson to the mind! In one sense, and that the most important, we are all travellers and pilgrims, journeying to an unknown country, and at a rate we cannot check, though we may precipitate it. May we, my dear friend, be enabled to finish our course with joy, and to enter into the rest that remaineth, and remaineth' ALONE ‘for the people of God.”
January 31st, 1823: on recovering from a “very severe attack of gout in both hands and feet," he writes to Dr. Walton thus :-By the goodness of God I am now much better, and I hope, by care, and a greater degree of attention to myself than I have hitherto given, to attain shortly to a firmer degree of health
than I have enjoyed for many months. The important point is, to regard all these reverses as corrective visitations, which most of us (and I am sure I can speak for myself) stand repeatedly in need of, to wean us from this world, and quicken us in our preparation for another: to empty us of ourselves, and to fill us, by the gracious influence of the Holy Spirit, with an humble trust in the merits of Him who is the sacrifice and propitiation for the sins of the whole world: and should it accomplish this-then indeed will the cloud we are made to pass through descend upon us in a fruitful and refreshing rain, and amply answer its purpose."
Again, in a letter to Dr. Drake, December 11th, 1824, after expressing his gratification that the Doctor should have thought so highly of his recent work, and exerted himself to make its value known to others, he adds“But I know the danger of even honourable reputation, and I fear the Circean cup. The richest pearl in the Christian's crown of graces is humility; and when I look back upon myself, and examine my own heart, and see how little progress I have made in that which it most imports us to study, I am sure there is no man breathing who has more cause, not only for humility, but for abasement, than myself: for how often have I neglected the cistern for the stream, and have been pursuing a bubble, instead of giving up all my feeble powers and possessions in purchase of the pearl of great price.' What a mercy not to have been allowed to persevere in that neglect!”
On Sept. 19th, 1825, he writes thus to Dr. Walton:“I have reason to be greatly thankful that I am much better; and if the complaint should not shift into any
other quarter (and I trust it will not do so) I may hope to be well in a day or two: and if so—(still an if!)-and who would wish it to be otherwise ;—who, that knows any thing of things as they are—would wish to be the arbiter of his own life?”
In August, 1826, his health having been greatly shaken, and that of Mrs. Good being very indifferent, it was thought expedient that they should go to Leamington. On this occasion he again addresses his esteemed relative at Birdbrook. “August 25th, 1826.-The die is cast, and we are going to Leamington. May a gracious Providence render its breezes balmy and its waters healthful! And, above all, direct me how best to devote whatever time may be yet allotted me, to the glory of God and the good of myself and others. I have trifled with time too much already; it is high time to awake and be sober, and to prepare to leave it for eternity! Every moment ought to be precious.”
On his return from Leamington he wrote to me in a similar strain, earnestly entreating an early meeting of our respective families, reminding me of the lapse of time with regard to both of us, and pathetically expressing his own persuasion that our remaining interviews would be few. In October we met; but it was in a large party, on a public occasion. We contrived, however, to sit together; and his conversation was, as usual, vivacious and full of information. When we parted, there was in his manner an unusual mixture of cheerfulness and solemnity. He again urged me to see him again soon; but we separated to meet no more on earth.
During the last three months of his life, his strength declined rapidly, exciting much solicitude in the minds
of Mrs. Good and his family, but no alarm of immediate danger. On the arrival of the Christmas holidays, Dr. Good, by whose short but affectionate visits to his beloved daughter Mrs. Neale,* and her children, he received and imparted delight, expressed a more than usual anxiety to go thither again; although he was so much indisposed before he commenced his journey, as to occasion serious apprehensions of his inability to go through it. He reached his daughter's house in a state of great exhaustion ; but, after a short time, rallied sufficiently to distribute amongst his grandchildren, who, as usual, gathered round him, the books and other appropriate presents, which his affection, watchful and active to the end, had assigned to each. He then retired to his chamber, not for repose and recovery, but to experience the solemnities of the last awful scene, and the transition from his growing infirmities to the regions where there is “no more pain," the world of pure and happy spirits. The touching but instructive circumstances attending the death-bed of my friend, consistently with the arrangement which I have prescribed to myself, I shall connect with the development of his religious character in the third section of these memoirs. Let it suffice to say, now, that his last illness, an inflammation of the bladder, was short, but exceedingly severe, and that it terminated his valuable life, on Tuesday, the 2d of January, 1827, in the 63d year of his age.
Only three days previously to his death, a young lady who was alarmingly ill, but then capable of being moved from one place to another, was desirous to have
* Residing at the village of Shepperton in Middlesex, about 18 miles from London.