friends. "I now come," he continues, "to the tenth
and last. I mention it last that it may be more memorable--heavenly
anticipation. By the grace of God we are going to move into a place so
much better than this, that on arriving we will wonder that we were for
so many years so loath to make the transfer. After we have seen Christ
face to face, and rejoiced over our departed kindred, there are some
mighty spirits we will want to meet soon after we pass through the
gates." As his graphic pen depicts the scene--the meeting with David and
the great ones of Scripture, "the heroes and heroines who gave their
lives for the truth, the Gospel proclaimers, the great Christian poets,
all the departed Christian men and women of whatever age or nation"--he
seems to have already a foretaste of the wonderful vision so soon to
open to his eyes. "Now," he concludes, "take down your harp of ten
strings and sweep all the chords. Let us make less complaint and offer
more thanks; render less dirge and more cantata. Take paper and pen and
write in long columns your blessings.... Set your misfortunes to music,
as David opened his dark sayings on a harp.... Blessing, and honour and
glory and power be unto Him that sitteth upon the throne and unto the
Lamb for ever. Amen!"

I recall that when Dr. Talmage first read this sermon to me in his
study, he said: "That is the best I can do; I shall never write a better
sermon." I have been told that when a man says he has reached the
topmost effort of his abilities, it presages his end, and the march of
events seemed to verify the axiom.

Dr. Talmage's last journey came about through the invitation of the
Mexican minister in Washington. The latter met Dr. Talmage at dinner,
and on hearing that he had never preached in Mexico he urged him to go
there. When the Doctor's plans had all been made, some friends tried to
dissuade him from going, secretly fearing, perhaps, the tax it would be
on his strength. Yet there was no evidence at this time to support their
fears, and the Doctor himself would have been the last to listen to any
warning. He was very busy during the few days that preceded our
departure from Washington in attending the meetings of the Committee of
distinguished clergymen who were in session to revise the creed of the
Presbyterian Church.

The day before we left for Mexico, the Doctor told me he desired to
entertain these gentlemen, as had been his custom during all important
gatherings