To sum up, death probably does not hurt nearly so much as the ordinary sufferings which are the lot of everybody in living; the act of death is probably no more terrible than our nightly falling asleep; and probably the condition of everlasting rest is what Fate has in store for us, and we can face it bravely without flinching when our time comes. But whether we flinch or not will not matter; we have to die all the same, and we shall be less likely to flinch if we can feel that we have tried to do our duty. And what are we to say of a man who has seen his duty, and urgently longed to perform it, but has failed because God has not given him sufficient strength? “Video meliora proboque, deteriora sequor,” as old Cicero said of himself. If there is any enigma at all, it lies in the frustrated longings and bitter disappointment of that man. Probably the best shield throughout life against the atrocious evils and injustices which every man has to suffer is a kind of humorous fatalism which holds that other people have suffered as much as ourselves; that such suffering is a necessary concomitant of life upon this world; and that nothing much matters so long as we do our duty in the sphere to which Fate has called us. A kindly irony which enables us to laugh at the world and sympathize with its troubles is a very powerful aid in the battle; and if a doctor does his part in alleviating pain and postponing death--if he does his best for rich and poor, and always listens to the cry of the afflicted,--and if he endeavours to leave his wife and children in a position better than he himself began, I do not see what more can be expected of him either in this world or the next. And probably Huxley was not far wrong when he said: “I have no faith, very little hope, and as much charity as I can afford.” It is amazing that there are some people in the world to-day who look upon a man who professes these merciful sentiments as a miscreant doomed to eternal flames because he will not profess to believe in their own particular form of religion. They think they have answered him when they proclaim that his creed is sterile. FOOTNOTES: [1] I have read or heard that one of the charges against Cardinal Wolsey was that he had given the King syphilis by whispering in his ear. The nature of the story so whispered is not disclosed, but may be imagined. But the proud prelate had several perfectly healthy illegitimate children, and on the whole it is probable that Henry caught the disease in the usual way. [2] They really seem to have taken some little pains to make the death of the King’s old flame as little terrible as possible. They might have burnt her or subjected her to the usual grim preliminaries of the scaffold. Probably they did this not because the King had ever loved her, but because she was a queen, and therefore not to be subjected to needless infamy; one of the Lord’s anointed, in short.