n the thought, repeating once or twice that he had not
seen it in this light before, and several times saying with fervour, "Not
my will, but Thine be done." At other times, he could even be led, by way
of steadying his wandering thoughts amidst the distraction of restlessness,
to fix them on his school and college days, to tell anecdotes of his hard
reading, or to describe the visit to Oxford of his venerable friend Dr.
Chalmers. He dwelt in this way on a sermon of Dr. Chalmers at Glasgow,
which he remembered even in detail, and from which he quoted some eloquent
passages, bringing out the general scope of the sermon, to the effect that,
rather than teach people to hate this bad world, we should teach them to
love and look up to a better one.[5]

'It will naturally be understood that long converse was nearly impossible.
As occasions rose, a few words were breathed, an appropriate verse quoted,
and a few minutes were all that could be given at any one time to discourse
upon it. It is characteristic of his strong, cheerful faith, even during
those last trying moments, that he on one occasion asked to have the more
supplicatory, penitential Psalms exchanged for those of praise and
thanksgiving, in which he joined, knowing them already by heart; and in the
same strain of calm yet triumphant hope, he whispered to himself on the
night when his alarming state was first made known to him, "Hallelujah; the
Lord God Omnipotent reigneth. We shall all meet again."

'That thought was raised to its highest pitch by the sight of a portrait of
a beloved son, who had died in England during his absence. It arrived in
the close of those sad days. He recognised it with a burst of tenderness
and delight which at once lifted his mind above the suffering of his mortal
illness. Again and again he desired to see it, and to speak of it, with the
fixed conviction that he and his "angel boy," as he called him, would soon
meet in a better world. "Oh, when shall I be with you?" "You know where he
is; we shall all go to him; he is happy."

'Every care had been taken for the public interests, and for the interests
of those still nearer and dearer to him. He had laid the most solemn charge
on his faithful secretary to conduct Lady Elgin home on her mournful and
solitary voyage. He had given to Dr. Macrae, with the tenderest marks of
affection, a turquoise ring: "We have had a long struggle together; keep
this in memory of it." He had dictated a telegr