Frank DeWitt Talmage, of Chicago;
Mrs. Warren G. Smith and Mrs. Daniel Mangam, of Brooklyn; Mrs. Allen E.
Donnan, of Richmond; and Mrs. Clarence Wycoff and Miss Talmage, were
gathered in the chamber of death. Dr. G.L. Magruder, the principal
physician, was also in attendance at the last. At 9.25 o'clock p.m., the
soul took flight from the inanimate clay, and the spirit of the world's
greatest preacher was released."

The Rev. T. Chalmers Easton, an old and valued friend of Dr. Talmage,
was in frequent attendance upon him, and never ceased his ministrations
until the eyes of the beloved one were closed in death. A brief excerpt
from his address at the Memorial Service of the Rev. T. DeWitt Talmage
held at the Eastern Presbyterian Church, Washington, may not be
unacceptable to the reader:

"A truly great man or eloquent orator does not die--

'And is he dead whose glorious mind
Lifts thine on high?
To live in hearts we leave behind
Is not to die.'

"What shall we say of the prince in Israel who has left us? Can we
compress the ocean into a dewdrop? No more is it possible to condense
into one brief hour what is due to the memory of our beloved and
illustrious friend. His moral courage was only equalled by his giant
frame and physical strength. He was made of the very stuff that martyrs
are made of: one of the most remarkable individualities of our time. A
man of no negative qualities, aggressive and positive.

"His whole soul was full of convictions of right and duty. A firm
friend, a man of ready recognition, a human magnet in his focalising
power. He was true in every deed, and never needed a veil to be
drawn.... If, as his personal friend for more than twenty years, I
should attempt to open up the treasures of his real greatness, where
shall we find more of those sterling virtues that poets have sung,
artists portrayed, and historians commended? He was truly a great man--a
man of God!

"The last years of his life were full of happiness in the living
companionship of her who so sadly mourns his departure. He frequently
spoke to me of the great inspiration brought into these years by her
ceaseless devotion to all his plans and work, making what was burdensome
in his accumulating literary duties a pleasure.... The last fond look of
recognition was given to his beloved wife, and the last word that fell
from his lips, when far down in the valley, was the sweetest music to
his ears--'Eleanor.'