the earth shall wail because of Him. Even so, Amen " (Rev. i. 7).

The last sermon he ever preached, from Luke viii. 45, "Who touched Me?" struck many at the time as being just such as they would expect to hear if it were to be his last sermon. In reference to this some weeks later, he said: "I felt at the time completely carried out of myself; and now I see that God was in a special manner speaking by me, and giving me my marching orders. Others have often urged me to give up work, but I could not do so till I had received my 'marching orders' from Him. My work is done now. I shall never preach again.'

Visitors were present on some of these occasions, who stopped after service to tell how they had attended his ministry

in bygone days in the different spheres of his former labour, when they had heard the same precious truths from his lips. It seems now as if a seal had been thus set upon the unvarying testimony that his ministry had ever borne; and for the privilege of proclaiming which, he counted not his life dear unto him. One had formerly heard him at Weston-superMare; another for many years at St. Peter's, Regent Square, London; a third had formed one of his congregation at St. Luke's, West Holloway; and another had sat under his ministry at St. James', Clapham; and one came on a Wednesday evening, whose earliest memories of forty years back were of the preacher whose teaching she had so greatly prized, and whose loved voice she now heard, alas! for the last time.

While listening to and deeply enjoying

the rich treat afforded in the spiritual food he was giving to his people, it was an effort of self-denial to seek to repress his energy; yet the feeling was abiding that he was too lavishly expending his scarcely restored strength. But it was a mutual delight when he dwelt on these themes, and "worked out his sermons in private conversations; and the risk incurred was too readily forgotten. His mind was always so full of new and precious thoughts which the subject in hand had awakened. When advised not to undergo the labour of preparing sermons, and reminded that those he had previously prepared, with equal care, would be new to the congregation, his constant reply would be, "Oh! but it is such food to my own soul!"

At length, in the middle of December, every obstacle having been, as he be

lieved, met and overcome, he said one day, to my inexpressible relief, "You may now make arrangements for going abroad as soon as you like; my work at Christ Church is finished." A joyful vista seemed opened, for continental travel had always afforded opportunities of wayside usefulness, of which he never failed to avail himself; and never did we indulge in the pleasures of anticipations more thoroughly than at this time. His keen appreciation of all the beauties he saw-in which he delighted to trace his Father's hand, and his happy enjoyment of such seasons, often reminded me of the remark of a physician to whom I had been lamenting my husband's extraordinary susceptibility to climatic and other influences." Well," he said, "you must take the bitter with the sweet. If Mr. Rogers is more sensitive to malefic in

fluences than other men, the same susceptibility makes him also far more alive. than the generality of men to congenial and pleasurable surroundings." And now he seemed so remarkably well-his happy, contented spirit even brighter than usual -and constantly said how much we should enjoy our tour.

But the Master's thoughts were higher than our thoughts. We contemplated for our loved one rest on the Riviera; He had planned for his tried and faithful servant unending rest beside the river of life.

Thrice during the following week the calls of duty or of friendship took him down to the seaside, and an hour spent there was always followed by suffering, if not by more serious mischief. The last time he went there was to attend a clerical meeting at the Rev. E. Wood's, and