'Your dear father was only in bed ten days before the end came, and all this time he spoke but little. He was too feverish and ill to want to talk or to listen: he just lay quietly, bearing his sickness with remarkable patience. One day, observing he was a little restless, I went to his bedside and asked him if he wanted anything. "No, nothing," was his reply, "only that the Lord would deliver me out of this distress." 'The last few days his mind was not clear, but all his wanderings were about his work. It was the last day but one of his life; he was more restless than usual, trying all the time to rouse himself, as if for a journey, when he looked up and said, "Where are we going?" '"To heaven," I answered, "to see the Lord." '"No," he replied, "that is not the address." '"Yes it is, Mr. Gilmour," I said again. "We are going to heaven; would you not like to go and see the Lord Jesus?" 'Then he seemed to take in the meaning of my words, and reverently bowed his head in assent, his lips quivered, and his eyes filled with tears; and he was quieted, like a weary child who has lost his way and finds on inquiry that only a few more steps and he will be at rest and at home. 'The next day, his last, was still more restless. At one time he seemed to be addressing an audience and earnestly gesticulating with his hands; and, with as much force as he could command, he said: "We are not spending the time as we should; we ought to be waiting on God in prayer for blessing on the work He has given us to do. I would like to make a rattling speech--but I cannot--I am very ill--and can only say these few words." And then he nodded his head and waved his hand, as if in farewell to his listeners. 'It was seven o'clock in the evening when my brother saw the end was not far off, and at once we sent for all the other members of the Mission that all might watch with him in this last solemn hour. He was unconscious the whole time, and his breathing laboured. 'The two doctors battled for an hour and a half to keep off Death's fatal grasp, but to no purpose: the Lord wanted His faithful worker, and we could not keep him, though we wanted him much, and knew that Willie and Jimmie in England needed him more. 'Gradually the breathing became quieter and quieter, till at last, about 9.30, he just closed his eyes and "fell asleep," with the peace of Heaven resting on his face.' In a letter sent by Dr. Roberts to Dr. Smith, who was then in England, a few further particulars are given.