Often had the aching soul cried out as a child to the father in whom he confides. Now, the overtasked body told, in a terrible way, of the anguish it had sympathized with and the vigils it had kept.
On the 13th of June, 1850, before rising in the morning, Walter Aimwell was suddenly seized by a fit of bleeding at the lungs. He was alone, but soon succeeded in calling the attention of the family. The usual remedies were applied, and a physician sent for. The hemorrhage was not of long duration, and at noon he was getting along very well.
The next day the doctor told him that he thought his lungs not yet diseased, though they were not in a condition to be tested; but he assured his patient that his life would be a short one unless he changed his habits; that he must not so closely confine himself to business, and that he needed more exercise and more sleep.
Six days after this, the invalid, though still very weak, went down-stairs for the first time, and prepared a little copy for his paper. Ten days afterwards, in company with the family, he rode to his office in Boston, and found things there “in fine shape,—Mr. G. having had the counting-room cleaned, painted, carpeted, etc.”
His monetary troubles continuing, in spite of continual improvement in the real condition of his property, and a deadly disease threatening him, it seemed expedient for him to accept an offer made by the proprietors of the “New England Farmer.” Accordingly, in November, 1850, a bargain was concluded, by which the “Rambler” was merged in the “New England Farmer,” and Walter Aimwell was employed as general editor at a fixed salary. This arrangement, while it diminished the amount of his property, in greater ratio diminished his perplexities, and took from his mind a great responsibility, giving him both more leisure and more freedom; and much of his time was now spent at his pretty home in Melrose. “Rather a hard finale,” he says, “for five years of incessant devotion to business; but I doubt not it is all for the best; and as long as I have my health and a chance to work, I will not complain.”
Having now some leisure that he can honestly take from his business, he begins to stimulate the young church in his neighborhood to greater activity. He cannot be idle and contented; and he has so much practical knowledge, and his abilities are so varied, that when industry is checked in one direction, he can readily turn it to some other channel.
Here is his record for Friday and Saturday of the first week in February, 1851:—
“Friday. A very cold day. Having decided to stereotype enough more pages of the ‘Library’ to make a good-sized volume, I had my type, cases, stand, etc., brought home this afternoon, and I intend to do the composition at my leisure, with assistance from A. [his wife], who intends to learn the art. I spent the principal part of the evening in writing.