Had Manning been in full health, he might have stood all this; but disease, fastened on him in the prison stockade, never relaxed its hold; and his strength failed steadily. Some of his friends advised him to abandon student-life and seek renewed vigor in active out-door occupation; but others, who were nearest him, with unaccountable blindness and persistency, uniformly urged his adherence to first-formed plans. Again and again his enfeebled frame gave way; and as often his unwavering determination enabled him to rally for another effort. It was hard for him to relinquish his purpose of _activity_ in Christ's service. He was far from wilful in this struggle. "I desire to be led by the hand of God," he said; "I am praying very earnestly, ... asking God to tell me what to do, and I know he will not tell me wrong.... Feeling that I am performing my mission here on earth, I take every step gladly;" but he wanted to take some step, not to stand still: it was easier for him to do any thing for Christ than to do nothing. "I will endeavor," he wrote, "to keep within bounds, and not try to strain my rope when I find I have arrived at the end of it;" but he was loath to believe there was any end to his rope. "God willing, I shall be able to do something by and by," he said, "and what shall it be?" He had the feeling that God, having accepted his consecration vow in prison, would somehow find work for him to do for Jesus, in accordance with its terms. No lesson concerning God's "kingly state" seemed so hard for him to learn as that-- "They also serve who only stand and wait." And, doubtless, his energy, coupled with his faith, prolonged his useful life. In his condition, and with his temperament, he would have fallen sooner but for his indomitable will, his determination not yet to yield to the closing pressure of disease, and his conviction that God would still sustain him in his work; that so long as he did what he could and should, his Father would supply all lack. It is, unquestionably, every man's duty to consider his health, even in the prosecution of a religious enterprise, and no desire for high and holy attainment will justify reckless over-effort of body or mind. But not all are to be judged by the same standard of prudence in amount or kinds of effort or toil. What is rest for one man would prove torture to another. Not a few depend for very life upon tireless activity; like the traveller on the Alps, if in their exhaustion they sit down at the approach of night, they chill and sleep and die. They must keep moving or perish. So in the case of Henry Manning: while his example of unintermitted nervous endeavor may not be commended to ordinary men for imitation, it may be admired and approved in him, doomed as he was to an early death from the hour he entered the Petersburg dungeon, and kept alive through his resolute activity, his over-estimate of remaining strength, and his ever sanguine anticipations of returning health.