I should like to have a good talk with you. I seldom get any one to talk on religious subjects. It seems to me that the world is growing rather tired of German criticism, having got out of it nearly all that it is capable of giving. To me it appears one of the most hopeful signs of the present day that we are coming back to the old, old doctrine, "he can't be wrong whose life is in the right." Yet this has to be taught in a new way, adapted to the wants of the age. We must give up doctrine and teach by the lives of men, beginning with the life of Christ, instead. And the best words of men, beginning with the Gospels and the prophets, will be our Bible. At the end of the year we spent a weekend with him at Balliol, and that was my last sight of my dear old friend. The year 1893 was for me one of illness, and of hard work both in the organization of the new Settlement and in the writing of _Marcella_. But that doesn't reconcile me to the recollection of how little I knew of his failing health till, suddenly, in September the news reached me that he was lying dangerously ill in the house of Sir Robert Wright, in Surrey. "Every one who waited on him in his illness loved him," wrote an old friend of his and mine who was with him to the end. What were almost his last words--"I bless God for my life!--I bless God for my life!"--seemed to bring the noble story of it to a triumphant close; and after death he lay "with the look of a little child on his face.... He will live in the hearts of those who loved him, as well as in his work."