st clinical teacher and wisest
surgeon, had made the public and the profession feel and acknowledge the
full weight of his worth.

Another life-long and ever strengthening friendship was that with James
Henderson, D. D., Galashiels, who survived my father only a few days.
This remarkable man, and exquisite preacher, whose intellect and worth
had for nearly fifty years glowed with a pure, steady, and ever-growing
warmth and lustre in his own region, died during the night and probably
asleep, when, like Moses, no one but his Maker was with him. He had for
years labored under that form of disease of the heart called _angina
pectoris_ (Dr. Arnold's disease), and for more than twenty years lived
as it were on the edge of instant death; but during his later years his
health had improved, though he had always to "walk softly," like one
whose next step might be into eternity. This bodily sense of peril gave
to his noble and leonine face a look of suffering and of seriousness,
and of what, in his case, we may truly call godly fear, which all must
remember. He used to say he carried his grave beside him. He came in to
my father's funeral, and took part in the services. He was much
affected, and we fear the long walk through the city to the burial-place
was too much for him; he returned home, preached a sermon on his old and
dear friend's death of surpassing beauty. The text was, "For me to live
is Christ, and to die is gain." It was, as it were, his own funeral
sermon too, and there was, besides its fervor, depth, and
heavenly-mindedness, a something in it that made his old hearers
afraid--as if it were to be the last crush of the grapes. In a letter to
me soon after the funeral, he said:--"His removal is another _memento_
to me that my own course is drawing near to its end. Nearly all of my
contemporaries and of the friends of my youth are now gone before me.
Well! I may say, in the words of your friend Vaughan--

'They are all gone to that world of light,
And I alone sit lingering here;
Their very memory's calm, and bright,
And my sad thoughts doth cheer.'"

The evening before his death he was slightly unwell, and next morning,
not coming down as usual, was called, but did not answer; and on going
in, was found in the posture of sleep, quite dead: at some unknown hour
of the night _abiit ad plures_--he had gone over to the majority, and
joined the famous nations of the dead. _Tu vero felix non vitae tantum
clari