I never
thought of him but with hope and delight. We looked forward to the
time, not distant, as we thought, when he would settle near us--when
the task of his life would be over, and he would have nothing to do
but reap his reward. By that time I hoped also that the chief part
of my labours would be executed, and that I should be able to show
him that he had not placed a false confidence in me. I never wrote a
line without a thought of giving him pleasure; my writings, printed
and manuscript, were his delight, and one of the chief solaces of
his long voyages. But let me stop. I will not be cast down: were it
only for his sake I will not be dejected. I have much yet to do, and
pray God to give me strength and power: his part of the agreement
between us is brought to an end, mine continues; and I hope when I
shall be able to think of him with a calmer mind, that the
remembrance of him dead will even animate me more than the joy which
I had in him living."
In these and the following reflections there is nothing of novelty;
yet there is an interest in the spectacle of this strong and simple
mind confronted with the universal problems, and taking refuge in
the thoughts which have satisfied, or scarcely satisfied, so many
generations of mourning men.
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