The Society was never fashionable, or even popular. At one period--that of the Richardson-McFarland matter--there was a vast deal of misrepresentation, criticism, and abuse, but all this had no effect on the constituency of the parish. There was the same loyalty, the same interest, the same determination to sustain a thoroughly liberal ministry, by which every form of conviction was made conducive to a purely spiritual faith. It was never pretended that the Society was anything more than a beginning. A small and feeble beginning, but of something that was to grow and spread; the beginning of a faith that is as rational as it is wide. Its influence was more diffusive than concrete as an instituted thing. It is the pride and consolation of those who began it that they removed some of the barriers that divided the great brotherhood of believing men. My ministry in New York ended in the spring of 1879. Its close was due entirely to my ill-health. A year before the doctors had warned me not to continue longer than was necessary my rate of speed. They urged me to go slower, to "take in sail," and to withdraw as far as I could from all public demonstrations. Measures were taken against every emergency, and I sailed away in the French steamer, with the hope that in six months I might regain my nervous power, and return. There was first the exhilarating sea voyage; then the beautiful city hall of Rouen, the churches and famous buildings, the square where Joan of Arc suffered; then came Paris with its enchantments; after that Basel showed its great Holbeins, and its lovely promenade overlooking the river; this led to the celebrated baths at Ragatz in Switzerland, the placid waters of Pfeffers', the gorge, the hotel gardens, and the lovely walks; after this came the pass of the Splügen, the Via Mala, the hotel at the summit of the pass among the snows, the pastures, the wild goats; then came Lake Como in Italy, Bellagio, the charming Villa Serbeloni, looking down upon the two lakes, Como and Lecco, the vineyards ripening in the sun, the terraces, looking across upon the mountains; then Milan opened its great cathedral, the gallery of the Brera, the ancient church of Saint Ambrose. Afterwards came Florence and its heavenly environs, its pictures and statues and public buildings, its groves and stately drives and lovely villas; Florence was followed by Siena, and there I saw the great cathedral, walked on the esplanade, enjoyed the public square, the palaces, the pictures of Sodoma. From there I went to Rome, in December.