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.
Pages:
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236