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235
The Private Papers of Henry Ryecroft
·
George Gissing
235
I
could
wish
for
many
another
year;
yet,
if
I
knew
that
not
one
more
awaited
me,
I
should
not
grumble.
When
I
was
ill
at
ease
in
the
world,
it
would
have
been
hard
to
die;
I
had
lived
to
no
purpose,
that
I
could
discover;
the
end
would
have
seemed
abrupt
and
meaningless.
Now,
my
life
is
rounded;
it
began
with
the
natural
irreflective
happiness
of
childhood,
it
will
close
in
the
reasoned
tranquillity
of
the
mature
mind.
How
many
a
time,
after
long
labour
on
some
piece
of
writing,
brought
at
length
to
its
conclusion,
have
I
laid
down
the
pen
with
a
sigh
of
thankfulness;
the
work
was
full
of
faults,
but
I
had
wrought
sincerely,
had
done
what
time
and
circumstance
and
my
own
nature
permitted.
Even
so
may
it
be
with
me
in
my
last
hour.
May
I
look
back
on
life
as
a
long
task
duly
completed--a
piece
of
biography;
faulty
enough,
but
good
as
I
could
make
it--and,
with
no
thought
but
one
of
contentment,
welcome
the
repose
to
follow
when
I
have
breathed
the
word
"Finis."
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