Numbers of poor villagers were wont to come from a distance every Sunday, being entertained in their Vicar's kitchen between the services. These lingered about the house in distress, unable to persuade themselves to seek their distant homes while one so dear to them lay probably dying. "If we could only _look_ at him once more!" they whispered pleadingly. Accordingly the door of the sick room was flung wide, the curtains drawn back from the bed, and this infinitely pathetic procession of peasants crept softly past the open door, each one pausing for a long look of love upon him whom they revered as spiritual father and saint. For the first time in their experience there was no kindling light in his eye, no gleam of welcome from the lips which had so often parted in smiles and blessing. His spirit hovered on the borders of a land beyond their reach. That Sabbath Day had scarcely spent itself when from earthly sleep Jean Guillaume De La Fléchère entered into eternal waking, so one in spirit with his Lord that the change could have been no more surprising than to Enoch of old. To the woman who knelt at his bedside until that last dread moment, the parting was no ordinary sorrow. "I am truly a desolate woman, who hath no helper but Thee!" she wailed. "Three years nine months and two days I have possessed my _heavenly- minded husband_; but now the sun of my earthly joy is _set for ever!_ and my soul is filled with an anguish which only finds its consolation in a total abandonment and resignation to the will of God. "That awful night, when I had hung over my dear husband for many hours, expecting every breath to be his last, and during which time he could hot speak to, nor take any notice of me, a flood of unspeakable sorrow overspread my heart, and quite overwhelmed my spirit.... My fatigue had been great; I was barely recovered from my fever, and this stroke so tore my nerves that it was an inlet to much temptation. In former parts of my life I have felt deep sorrow, but such were now my feelings that no words I am able to think of can convey an adequate idea thereof. "The next morning, O my God! what a cup didst Thou put into my hand! Not only my beloved husband, but, it appeared to me, my Saviour also was torn from me! Clouds and darkness surrounded both soul and body. The sins even of my infancy came before me, and assaulted me as thick as hail! I seemed to have no love, no faith, no light--and yet I could not doubt but I should see the smiling face of God in glory!...An unshaken belief that Christ would bring me through all, was my great support; and it seemed to me that I must have been annihilated had I been moved from that anchor.... All my religion seemed shrunk into one point, viz., a constant cry, '_Thy will be done! I will, yes; I will glorify Thee! even in this fire._'"