About the year 1785 Smeaton’s health began to decline, and he then endeavoured to retire from business in order to gain time to publish an account of his inventions and works. This was one of the wishes nearest to his heart, for, as he often said, ‘he thought he could not render better service to his country than by doing that.’ He had just completed his account of the Eddystone lighthouse when he was prevailed on to continue his services as engineer to the trustees for Ramsgate harbour. The works at Ramsgate were begun in 1749, but had been conducted with very indifferent success until Smeaton was called in to superintend them in 1774. He completed the magnificent pier and harbour of this place in 1791, and thus established a secure and much needed place of shelter in the Downs. A man whose life is so beneficially devoted to the service of the public can scarcely hope to enjoy leisure and retirement during which he may look back upon the past, and leave a written record of his exertions. Smeaton was so constantly and urgently employed that he could not achieve much with his pen. On the 16th September 1792, he was seized with an attack of paralysis induced by over-exertion, and this attack carried him to the grave on the 28th of the next month, in the 69th year of his age. During his illness he dictated several letters to his old friend Mr. Holmes. In one of them he describes minutely his health and feelings, and says, ‘in consequence of the foregoing, I conclude myself nine-tenths dead, and the greatest favour the Almighty can do (as I think) will be to complete the other part, but as it is likely to be a lingering illness, it is only in His power to say when that is likely to happen.’ His daughter, Mrs. Dickson, says that he always apprehended the attack which terminated his life, as it was hereditary in his family. He dreaded it only as it gave the melancholy possibility of outliving his faculties, or the power of doing good; or, to use his own words, ‘lingering over the dregs after the spirit had evaporated.’ Indeed, the decay of his mental faculties seems to have been that which he most dreaded. He would sometimes complain of slowness of apprehension, and would then excuse it with a smile, saying, ‘it could not be otherwise, the shadow must lengthen as the sun went down.’ When seized with paralysis he was resigned to the event, anxious to soften any alarm to his family, and was thankful that his intellect was spared. But his invariable wish was to be released. He expressed particular pleasure in seeing the usual occupations of his family resumed; and reading, drawing, music, and conversation excited the same interest and the same cheerful and judicious observations as ever. One evening he was requested to explain some phenomena respecting the moon, which was seen from the room shining brightly. He gave a full explanation, then fixed his eyes full upon the object in question, and after regarding it stedfastly