the invariable result to him, of proximity to the sea, showed itself upon his return home. He was never well afterwards, and felt that some poison had entered his system. Before the close of the week he was attacked with the illness which ultimately proved fatal.

Notwithstanding, he struggled against it; and, brave as he always was, rose and dressed on the morning of Sunday, Dec. 23rd, his mind full of the subject on which he intended to preach, when he became too ill to admit of the effort. During the ensuing week he was confined to his bed with the perplexing symptoms only too well known to those on whom the seaside has the effect of a slow poison.* * The doctor called it "suppressed

* Prof. Allman, in his work on the "Climate of Nice," alludes to the effect that the sea air

gout." He attempted one day to go downstairs, when unfortunately he caught a slight cold, and rheumatic gout, with its attendant agonies set in. Still there was no thought of danger. The doctor said his strength was well maintained, and that the great object was to get him away for change of air as soon as possible. Nevertheless, on looking back, we can recall many indications that from the first he had presentiments of his approaching departure.

During an early part of his illness, mindful as ever of the comfort of others, he was anxious for his Scripture reader to take a much-needed holiday. On finding that this faithful fellow labourer

there has on some persons; and mentions cases in which poisonous effects have followed the administration of iodine at Nice, to those who could when inland, take it with benefit.

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could not be persuaded to leave his work during his much-loved vicar's illness, he said: "Well, Collins, it has been my highest joy to stand forth in my Master's name, and unfold His blessed truths to precious souls, but I don't think I shall ever have that privilege again. Nevertheless, I pray that the Lord may yet bless what has been said, so as to yield an abundant harvest to the praise and glory of His great and holy name."

At this time he begged our dear child to read to him two or three verses daily of the seventeenth chapter of St. John, that being often as much as he could listen to at a time, when he dwelt on the precious truths they unfolded; and amidst pain and weakness frequently interrupted her with, "Oh! what love! what wondrous love!" or, again, "What should I do had I now to seek my Saviour?"

He often spoke with thankfulness of her having just left school in time to be with him in this illness, and marked in it the guiding hand of a loving Father. He delighted to count up his mercies, which indeed had been his favourite employment through life. Throughout his illness, when prayer was daily offered at his bedside, his constant request was for "more praise."

No murmuring ever escaped his lips, though wearisome days and nights were now appointed him, and at times severe fits of sickness utterly prostrated him. He was always peculiarly sensitive to pain, which made his patience the more remarkable. I have often heard his medical men exclaim, "Why, your organization is as delicate as any woman's." And now his sufferings were sometimes agonizing. Still the few friends who

were admitted to his bedside saw no change in the bright, beaming countenance, which had always told so plainly of heaven's light within, overspread as it too often was with pain and suffering.

Once he said: "I do see now that there was too great an expenditure of brain power in my sermons lately; in fact, in looking back on my ministerial work, I feel I have been too often living on capital, instead of being content with expending the interest. Nevertheless I do not know that I regret it, especially such of it as it has pleased God to bless."

Very tenderly at times he strove to direct my thoughts to the possibility of his removal; but I had been with him so often to the border land, and knew so well the strength of his constitution, that I was buoyed up with a hope which refused to believe he was about to be taken