The writer then hints a fear that he may, unwittingly, have incurred a renewal of the paternal displeasure which some expressions of opinion in his former letter on the same subject had excited. Let his father kindly remember, he entreats, that his own special part in the business,—‘which is to be in love with any of them, is not yet at hand.’ Death, not love-making, was at hand. One month afterwards, the arm that penned this letter was stretched out,—still and rigid. The Prince was seized with sudden illness on the 10th of October, five days after its date. [Sidenote: DEATH. 1612. November.] The first appearances were such as are wont to follow upon a great chill, after excessive exercise—to which HENRY was always prone. In spite of much pain and some alarming symptoms, he persisted in removing from Richmond to St. James’ on the 16th, in order to receive the Elector Palatine, soon to become the husband of his sister. Within very few days it was apparent that his illness was of the most serious nature. He left his apartment at St. James’ on the morning of the 25th, to hear a sermon at the Chapel Royal. The text was from the fourteenth of Job, ‘_Man, that is born of a woman, is of short continuance_.’ Afterwards he dined with the King, but was obliged to take his leave, being seized with faintness and shivering fits. These continued to recur, at brief intervals, until his death, on the evening of the sixth of November. Almost the only snatch of quiet sleep which he could obtain followed upon the administration of a cordial, prepared for him in the Tower by RALEGH, at the Queen’s earnest request. It was not given until the morning of the last day. HENRY died calmly, but under total exhaustion. For many hours before his death he was unconscious, as well as speechless. The last words to which he responded were those of Archbishop ABBOT:—‘In sign of your faith and hope in the blessed Resurrection, give us, for our comfort, a sign by the lifting up of your hands.’ HENRY raised both hands, clasped together. It was his last conscious act. Here, to human ken, was a life all seed-time. The harvest belonged to the things unseen. Contemporaries who had treasured up, in memory, many of those small matters which serve to mark character, were wont sometimes to draw contrasts between the prince and his brother. And many have been the speculations—natural though unfruitful—as to the altered course of English history, had HENRY lived to ascend the throne. One fact, observable in the correspondence and documentary history of the times, will always retain a certain interest. Some of those who were to rank among the staunchest opponents of CHARLES were men who thought highly of HENRY’S abilities to rule, and who held his memory in affectionate reverence. [Sidenote: DISPOSAL OF THE PRINCE’S LIBRARY.]