"Your Wife knows my mind towards her,and will believe it without asseverations.
"Yours to the last,"JOHN STERLING."
It was a bright Sunday morning when this letter came to me:if in the great Cathedral of Immensity I did no worship that day,the fault surely was my own.Sterling affectionately refused to see me;which also was kind and wise.And four days before his death,there are some stanzas of verse for me,written as if in star-fire and immortal tears;which are among my sacred possessions,to be kept for myself alone.
His business with the world was done;the one business now to await silently what may lie in other grander worlds."God is great,"he was wont to say:"God is great."The Maurices were now constantly near him;Mrs.Maurice assiduously watching over him.On the evening of Wednesday the 18th of September,his Brother,as he did every two or three days,came down;found him in the old temper,weak in strength but not very sensibly weaker;they talked calmly together for an hour;then Anthony left his bedside,and retired for the night,not expecting any change.But suddenly,about eleven o'clock,there came a summons and alarm:hurrying to his Brother's room,he found his Brother dying;and in a short while more the faint last struggle was ended,and all those struggles and strenuous often-foiled endeavors of eight-and-thirty years lay hushed in death.