LORD WOODHOUSELEE. 549 
«“ | have this day (says he) completed my forty-eighth year, 
and the best part of my life is gone. When I look back on 
“« what is past, [am humbly grateful for the singular blessings 
“ T have enjoyed. All indeed that can render life of value, 
“ has been mine. Health, and peace of mind;—easy, and even 
“ affluent circumstances ;—domestic happiness ;—kind and af- 
“« fectionate relations ;—sincere and cordial friends ;—a good 
“* name ;—and, I trust in Gop, a good conscience. What 
“ therefore on earth have I more to desire? Nothing; but if 
“ He that gave, so please, and if it be not presumption in me 
“* to pray,—a continuance of those blessings. Yet, if it should 
“ be otherwise, let me not repine. I bow to His commands, 
“ who alone knows what is best for his creatures; and I say 
“ with the excellent Grorivus, 
a 
o 
«¢ Hactenus ista: latet sors indeprensa futuri ; 
Scit, qui sollicitum me vetat esse, Devs. 
Duce genitor me magne! Sequar, quocunque vocabor, 
Seu Tu lata mihi, seu mihi dura, paras.— 
Sistis in hac vita? Maneo, partesque tuebor 
Quas dederis. Revocas, Optime? Promptus eo.” 
The melancholy change for which Mr Tyrrer seems thus to 
have prepared his mind, was soon to take place. In the au- 
tumn of the year 1795, he was seized with a long and dange- 
rous fever, accompanied with delirium, and tending frequently 
to relapse. Under the anxious care of his friend and physi- 
cian Dr Greeory, he recovered from the fever; but in one of 
the paroxysms of the disease, he had the misfortune to rupture 
some of the blood-vessels of the bladder,—an accident which 
not only protracted his recovery at the time, but which threa- 
tened to degenerate into one of the most painful diseases to 
which the human frame is subject. . 
3 Z2 In 
