He was too willing to be imposed upon by young authors and would-be poets.

He said: "People expect too much of me, altogether too much." That Sunday was his last before his address on Mazzini in Central Park.

He finished with the hot sun over his head, and walking across the park to the house of Grant Wilson, he fell down faint and hopelessly ill on the doorstep.

He never rallied, and after thirteen days the end came.
An impressive warning to the old, who are selfishly urged to do hard tasks, that they must conserve their own vitality.

Bryant was eighty-four when killed by over-exertion, with a mind as wonderful as ever.
I will now recount the conditions when Ezekiel Webster and his second wife took their wedding trip in a "one hoss shay" to the White Mountains in 1826.
Grandma lived to be ninety-six, with her mind as clear as ever, and two years before her death she gave me this story of their experiences at that time.