acquitted myself better."

Mr. Falkland having once established himself in the apartment of his
friend, would upon no terms consent to retire. Mr. Clare considered that
there was perhaps less danger in this choice, than in the frequent
change from the extremes of a pure to a tainted air, and desisted from
expostulation. "Falkland," said he, "when you came in, I had just
finished making my will. I was not pleased with what I had formerly
drawn up upon that subject, and I did not choose in my present situation
to call in an attorney. In fact, it would be strange if a man of sense,
with pure and direct intentions, should not be able to perform such a
function for himself."

Mr. Clare continued to act in the same easy and disengaged manner as in
perfect health. To judge from the cheerfulness of his tone and the
firmness of his manner, the thought would never once have occurred that
he was dying. He walked, he reasoned, he jested, in a way that argued
the most perfect self-possession. But his appearance changed perceptibly
for the worse every quarter of an hour. Mr. Falkland kept his eye
perpetually fixed upon him, with mingled sentiments of anxiety and
admiration.

"Falkland," said he, after having appeared for a short period absorbed
in thought, "I feel that I am dying. This is a strange distemper of
mine. Yesterday I seemed in perfect health, and to-morrow I shall be an
insensible corpse. How curious is the line that separates life and death
to mortal men! To be at one moment active, gay, penetrating, with stores
of knowledge at one's command, capable of delighting, instructing, and
animating mankind, and the next, lifeless and loathsome, an incumbrance
upon the face of the earth! Such is the history of many men, and such
will be mine.

"I feel as if I had yet much to do in the world; but it will not be. I
must be contented with what is past. It is in vain that I muster all my
spirits to my heart. The enemy is too mighty and too merciless for me;
he will not give me time so much as to breathe. These things are not yet
at least in our power: they are parts of a great series that is
perpetually flowing. The general welfare, the great business of the
universe, will go on, though I bear no further share in promoting it.
That task is reserved for younger strengths, for you, Falkland, and such
as you. We should be contemptible indeed if the prospect of human
improvement did not yield us a pure and perfect delight, independ