How strangely and how sadly was this man thwarted in the high aim of his life. He longed for power, but it was for the power to carry through his great scheme. For the mere shows--the trappings--of authority he cared but little. Such outward things dwelt not in his desires. "My plan" was often on his lips, and ever in his thoughts. His strong mind was made up that it should succeed. He looked upon it with all the fondness and the pride with which a father looks upon his only boy. Take it from him, and his life was done. There was in him a rare combination of enthusiasm and practical power--such a combination as the world has not often seen, and may not again see for many a long day. He had "the usual concomitant of great abilities, a lofty and steady confidence in himself;"[251] but together with this confidence was found a cautiousness that, for the most part, is only seen in those who are far too timid for any great undertaking. He clearly saw every difficulty that lay in his path, and yet he went on with unshaken firmness. To the simple pleasures of life he was by no means indifferent; but he had in his early years attained a thorough self-mastery. In everything but in work he was the most temperate of men. He never repined over the past, or, when once he had taken a step, fretted at the result. His health was greatly shattered by his excessive toils and his long struggles. For the last years of his life he never left his house, and never even left the floor on which his sleeping-room was. But in the midst of this confinement, in all the weakness of old age and sickness, he wrote, "I accept the evil with the good, and frankly regard the latter as by far the weightier of the two. Could I repeat my course, I should sacrifice as much as before, and regard myself as richly repaid by the result."