Whether that is true courage may be a question, but it was his, in conjunction with courage of another description.

He did not fear to die, nor did he fear to live.

But what he did fear was to fail before he died.

Not to go out with the conviction that he was vanishing amid the glory of success, was to him to be wretched at his last moment, and to be wretched at his last moment, or to anticipate that he should be so, was to him,--even so near his last hours,--the acme of misery.

How much of life was left to him, so that he might recover something of success?
Or was any moment left to him?
He could not sleep, so he rung his bell, and again sent for Mr.Merton.
"I have taken what you told me." "So best," said Mr.Merton.For he did not always feel assured that this strange patient would take what had been ordered.
"And I have tried to sleep." "That will come after a while.