Mr. Craig's last
hours, viz.: that of his countryman, Mr. W. C. Cabot, and that of the
Rev. Dr. Godet, of Neuchatel. Of the former he said the day before his
death: "He saw me coming from Geneva a perfect stranger--lying sick,
helpless, wretched, and miserable in the ears--and spoke to me, inquired
who I was, and took care of me. Anybody else would have gone by on the
other side. He brought me to this hotel, and remained with me, and did
everything for me; and, fearing that I might be ill some time, and
uneasy about money matters, he sent me a letter of credit for two
hundred pounds. Such noble and generous conduct to an entire stranger
was never heard of." To Dr. Godet he had a letter from Prof. Henry B.
Smith, of New York. But he needed no other introduction to that warm-
hearted and eminent servant of God than his sad condition and his love
to Christ. "From the first quarter of an hour," wrote Dr. Godet to Mrs.
Craig, "we were like two brothers who had known each other from infancy.
He knew not a great deal of French, and I not more of English; but the
Lord was between him and me." "Prof. Godet and family are like the very
angels of God," wrote Mr. Craig to his wife. His last days were filled
with inexpressible joy in his God and Saviour. Shortly before his
departure he said to Dr. Godet and the other friends who were by his
bedside, "_There shall be no night there, but the Lamb which is in the
midst of the throne shall be their light._"

Mr. Craig had a highly poetical nature, refined spiritual sensibilities,
and a soul glowing with love to his Master. He was also a vigorous and
original thinker. Some passages in his letters and journal are as racy
and striking as anything in John Newton or Cecil. Mrs. Prentiss greatly
enjoyed reading them to her friends. Some of them she copied and had
published in the Association Monthly.

CHAPTER X.

ON THE MOUNT.

1870.

I.

A happy Year. Madame Guyon. What sweetens the Cup of earthly Trials and
the Cup of earthly Joy. Death of Mrs. Julia B. Cady. Her Usefulness.
Sickness and Death of other Friends. "My Cup runneth over." Letters.
"More Love to Thee, O Christ."

In every earnest life there usually comes a time when it reaches its
highest point, whether of power or of enjoyment; a time when it is in

--the bright, consumate flower.

The year 1870 formed such a period in the life of Mrs. Prentiss. None
that went before, or that followed after, equalled it, a