166 John Bach man. 



that rest was needful. Now I part from you only when 

 my ministrations would be of little service to you, 

 and with the cherished hope that I may return to 

 you under happier auspices, to labor with you, and, 

 if it please God, to rest with you, at last, in your 

 peaceful sanctuary. " ^^' '"^ ^ 



Be at peace among yourselves, and may the 

 peace of God abide upon you all. 



Amen and farewell. 



The long sea-voyage across the Atlantic decidedly 

 benefited the invalid, and when the vessel reached 

 Liverpool he stepped on shore Avitli comparatively 

 a firm step. 



Hastening to London, he drove to the Audubons' 

 home late in the evening. He was dismayed to find 

 the door-knocker tied up, and the moments seemed 

 like hours as he waited for admittance. Audubon 

 opened the door himself, and instantly explained the 

 door-knocker mystery — "God bless us! Welcome 

 friend Bachman! To-day, our daughter Maria has 

 made us grandfathers. The little Lucy and her 

 mother are doing bravely — to bed now, old fellow, 

 to-morrow, you shall see them.'' 



Although benefited by the long sea-voyage, it 

 soon became apparent to the watchful eyes of his 

 friends, that he needed medical treatment. 



Two eminent London physicians, Drs. Benjamin 

 Phillips and Robert Carswell, were consulted. We 

 find an elaborate opinion, several pages in length, 

 describing Dr. Bachman's case. 



"He had been threatened," they write, "With 

 spinal congestion, the result of chronic rheuma- 



