never recover. He employed himself, as his strength would allow, in arranging his papers, &c., saying that he was putting his house in order. It was natural for his family and friends to make the most of every favourable symptom, anxious to put off, as much as possible, the conviction that his recovery was hopeless. He often expressed his surprise that they should ever think him better, pointing to his emaciated frame, and saying, with much depth of feeling, "How wonderful you don't see!" The author can never forget one evening, in the first week of January, when, sitting with him and Mrs. Gordon over the fire, he held up his thin hand, and after attentively regarding it for some minutes, spoke of it in the most touching manner, addressing it as the implement he had so long used in writing prescriptions, lectures, and speeches, and which had served him so faithfully, adding, "And is it so soon to return to dust? It will all be scattered and disappear. How wonderful!" The same calmness was manifested by him to the very last. His medical attendants often expressed their surprise at his uniform composure, and feared not to mention whatever was unfavourable in his case, as there was no danger of its producing the slightest change in his feelings. Sunday, January 7, 1849, was his last day down stairs. On the following Saturday, as will be seen in subsequent pages, he was very suddenly seized, to all appearance, with death. He in some measure rallied for a few days, but from this time sank very gradually; not suffering acute pain, though occasionally troubled with vomiting. His appetite remained, but his increasing emaciation was daily observable. His mental faculties and power of speech continued in their full vigour, so that he was able to enjoy constant intercourse with his family and friends. His death took place on Wednesday, February 7. The concluding chapters of this volume contain a narrative of what occurred in his room, during the last few weeks of his life. The author cannot but express, in this place, the high appreciation in which Dr. Gordon and his family held the attentions received during his illness from various members of the profession. Mr. Ingham, an eminent surgeon in North Shields, a very old and dear friend, though suffering extremely himself, rose from a sick bed to visit him, but was at once convinced he could render him no effectual aid. Dr. Ayre, his chief medical friend and adviser in Hull, was most unremitting and kind in his visits. Dr. Gordon was also much indebted to Dr. Horner, Mr. Twining, Mr. Craven, Mr. Becket, and other medical gentlemen, whose kind sympathy and anxiety on the sufferer's behalf will ever be gratefully remembered by survivors, as they were thankfully received by himself. The following article, from the pen of one of these gentlemen, which appeared in several of the provincial papers, after Dr. Gordon's decease, will be read with interest as confirmatory of the contents of this chapter: "Another great and good man has been taken away from the midst of us. The community at large, and Hull more especially, can ill afford the loss it has just sustained, in the lamented removal by death, of Dr. Gordon. "Connected with a profession distinguished for its broad sympathies, high intelligence, and comprehensive charities, his was, nevertheless, no merely official character; his daily walk no ordinary routine. No professional training, however severe, no educational advantages, however great, would have necessarily produced a Dr. William Gordon. Of him it was peculiarly true, that to know him was to love him; and yet (owing, perhaps, to his love of retirement, and of domestic enjoyment) few public men have been at once so much, and yet so little, known, as the deceased. "Endowed by nature with a power of readily expressing himself in elegant and persuasive language, and at the same time identified in sympathy and soul with everything which he believed to be conducive to the physical and moral advancement of our common humanity, he was almost universally known as a public character, whose influence was peculiarly felt in the noble effort to efface one of the foulest stains from the national character D that of intemperance. This effort, however, required great moral courage; and, perhaps, excited prejudices which otherwise had never existed; as, assuredly, it would call forth in many a breast a gratitude which shall endure when the one shall be no longer required, and the other have long been forgotten. "But it is chiefly as a man, as a physician, and a friend, that his name will be cherished and revered. The narrower circle of those who, during his brief career, shared his professional services, and still more those who enjoyed his friendship and the privilege of his society, can alone fully know what the community has lost by his removal. That nameless charm which exalts and beautifies every other personal attribute, was pre-eminently his. Naturally gifted, frank in his demeanour, approachable, patient, sympathizing, intelligent, he was eminently qualified for the duties of a physician, for which a lengthened and diversified experience, a liberal education, and, alas! a too sedulous application to study, further fitted him. That high humanity, which almost includes all moral excellence, was conspicuous in his general deportment, and together with a great openness, urbanity, and simplicity of character, rendered him an object of affectionate regard to all who really knew him, especially to the poor, who have lost in him a sincere and sympathizing friend, and whose affectionate remembrance will form his best and most enduring monument. "His death may be regarded as premature; and yet if length of life is to be estimated by the effecting of great moral results, by the large alleviation of social misery and suffering, by the formation of friendships which death is unable to sever, and especially by the learning and showing to others how to leave it, full of hope and love and humble confidence in the alone merits of our Redeemer-assuredly his life has not been too brief, nor his removal premature. During the whole of his lengthened affliction, the utmost patience, resignation, and consideration for those around him, were conspicuous. The writer, along doubtless with other surviving friends, can adopt the language of Young: ""I loved him much, but now I love him more, Like birds whose beauties languish half concealed, "The writer well remembers him as one of the early supporters of the old Mechanics' Institute, in Charlotte Street, where he listened with great interest to a popular course of lectures on physiology delivered by him. He was known at an early period as an author, having published his 'Academical Examinations on the Practice of Surgery,' |