Of Nicholson's last moments Neville Chamberlain, who was constantly by his bedside, has written in touching words. He himself had lost a devoted friend who could never be replaced. In the camp the news that Nicholson was gone was received with universal sorrow. It was felt that by his death the army on the Ridge had been suddenly deprived of the one strong man to whom everybody had instinctively turned for advice and encouragement, and who could least be spared. There was a sense of injustice, too. Delhi had fallen, but--John Nicholson, struck down in the hour of victory, was not there to share in the triumph. The funeral of the dead hero took place on the following day. He was buried in a newly made cemetery not far from the Cashmere Gate and the breach through which he had led the storming party, a fitting spot truly for his resting-place. Among those who paid their last respects to him were the men of the Mooltani Horse, who had followed Nicholson from the Punjaub to Delhi. Their grief was unrestrained, sirdars and troopers mingling their tears as the body of their beloved "Nikalseyn sahib" was lowered into the grave. Of the strange sect that had worshipped him as a god it is recorded that on Nicholson's death becoming known, the two head-men of the tribe committed suicide, declaring that life was no longer worth living. The rest, however, decided that their dead master would not have approved of such a course, and announced their resolve to worship in future the God of whom he had often spoken to them; whereupon they went to Peshawur in a body and became Christians. After Nicholson's death the tributes of praise accorded him were many and widespread. In every part of India and in Great Britain his early demise--he was but thirty-five--created a feeling of a national loss. The _London Gazette_ soon afterwards announced that had he lived he would have been made a K.C.B.; while, for their part, the East India Company, in whose service he had laboured so well, marked their recognition of him by unanimously voting his mother a special grant of 500 pounds a year. What more remains to be said? It is a fadeless memory that John Nicholson has left behind him. Soldier, administrator, and leader of men, he trod "the perfect ways of honour," and by his private as much as by his public life made himself a shining ensample for all time. Like Havelock, Henry and John Lawrence, Gordon, and many another soldier of high fame, Nicholson was a man of deep religious feeling. For this his careful early training was largely responsible. He would not have enjoyed the Lawrences' intimate friendship had he not been the high-minded, pure-souled man he was; but if he bore "the white flower of a blameless life" himself, he never paraded his religion or forced his views upon others. It was enough for him to live cleanly and righteously, to follow the dictates of conscience in all his actions.