ident" for the first time in the little church at East Hampton,
where it had been written in his study. In October the Doctor was called
upon to preach at the obsequies of the Rev. Dr. Sunderland, for many
years pastor of the First Presbyterian Church in Washington. What a long
season of obsequies Dr. Talmage solemnised! And yet, with what supreme
optimism he defied the unseen arrow in his own life that came to pierce
him with such suddenness in April, 1902.

The Doctor had been a good traveller, and he was fond of travelling;
but, toward the end of his life, there were moments when he felt its
fatiguing influences. He never complained or appeared apprehensive, but
I remember the first time he showed any weariness of spirit. I almost
recall his words: "I have written so much about everything, that now it
becomes difficult for me to write. I am tired." It frightened me to hear
him say this, he was so wonderful in endurance and strength; and I could
not shake off the effect that this first sign of his declining years
made upon me. He was then sixty-nine years old, and the last of the
twelve children, save his sister.

The last sermon he ever wrote was preached in February, 1902. The text
of this was from Psalms xxxiii. 2: "Sing unto Him with the Psaltery, and
an instrument of ten strings." This was David's harp of gratitude and
praise. After some introductory paragraphs on the harp, its age, the
varieties of this "most consecrated of all instruments," its
"tenderness," its place in "the richest symbolism of the Holy
Scriptures," he writes: "David's harp had ten strings, and, when his
great soul was afire with the theme, his sympathetic voice, accompanied
by exquisite vibrations of the chords, must have been overpowering....
The simple fact is that the most of us, if we praise the Lord at all,
play upon one string or two strings, or three strings, when we ought to
take a harp fully chorded, and with glad fingers sweep all the strings.
Instead of being grateful for here and there a blessing we happen to
think of, we ought to rehearse all our blessings, and obey the
injunction of my text to sing unto Him with an instrument of ten
strings." "Have you ever thanked God for delightsome food?" he asks; and
for sight for "the eye, the window of our immortal nature, the gate
through which all colours march, the picture gallery of the soul?" He
enumerates other blessings--hearing, sleep, the gift of reason, the
beauties of nature,